Reparations
by Confused-But-Insouciant
Summary: Sequel to 'A Good Man.' Loki is still living with the Avengers after his crimes in New York, and trying to lay low, but after spotting an enemy of SHIELD known as The Winter Soldier, his curiosity regarding the assassin's memory loss gets the better of him. Trouble follows, as Loki's sudden secrecy makes the Avengers begin to wonder if he is plotting against them once again.


So the last piece of Avengers fanfic I posted was about two years ago. And then work and university and life happened and I always meant to write more and I didn't. I am a terrible, terrible human being.

And then Thor 2 and Captain America: The Winter Soldier happened and I NEEDED to write something. Unfortunately, the events that have taken place in Thor 2, Captain America 2 and Agents of SHIELD have changed the universe so much since The Avengers that there are now contradictions between what I'd written and what's happening in the Marvel universe now. I really shot myself in the foot on that one. It's my own fault for taking so long.

So, just for the purposes of this story:

*Thor 2 did not happen. Loki and Thor carry straight on as they were at the end of the last fic, 'A Good Man.' Sorry about that. (But hey! It means Frigga's fine!)  
*Captain America 2 _sort of_ happened. That stuff with SHIELD never happened, ok? The Winter Soldier showed up at some point and tried to kill Steve, but for the purposes of this story, SHIELD is still going. For now.

Everything else carries on pretty much from the previous fics, So if you haven't read those yet, I recommend that you do so, or you're probably going to be confused about quite a few things. Seriously. Go read them first. I'll wait here.

As always, I have tried to make the Americans sound american, but if any sneaky Britishisms have snuck in, I apologise. (In the characters' speech, that is. If you see the word 'colour' or 'favour' or 'armour' or whatever in the text when it's not being said by an American, that is purely because I am a Londoner and I cannot bring myself to spell those words without a 'u.' Spelling them without a 'u' is actually classed as treason here in the UK and the Queen comes to your house and sets an army of corgis on you. Apologies.)

And as always, as much as I wish otherwise, the characters belong to Marvel. I own nothing.

**Warnings for some angst and one tiny example of what might be called self-harm. It's not really self harm but a character does deliberately cut themselves a _tiny_ bit. And then they're immediately fine.**

Hope you enjoy! Reviews make me ridiculously happy, by the way. *cough, cough.*

* * *

**Reparations**

Agent Clint "Hawkeye" Barton flexed his fingers absent-mindedly as he surveyed the penthouse of the Avengers Tower. The archer was perched in a large air vent,  
where he had been doing his weekly check for enemy bugs. However, upon finding the vents clear, he had chosen to remain where he was, with an elevated viewpoint of the room. Thor and Steve were sitting at the table, receiving one of their lessons on 20th Century events from Bruce. The lessons had originally been intended for Steve's benefit, but Thor had begun to join him once he had realised that, through many visits over the centuries and the eagerness with which he devoured books, his younger, adoptive brother's general knowledge of Midgard was vastly superior to his own. Of course, once he'd begun thinking of it as a competition, Thor had become determined to at least equal, if not best, his brother, and was staring at Bruce intently. Clint chuckled from his perch as the scientist tried to ignore Thor's stare and valiantly tried to continue teaching. He swivelled his gaze to the glass doors that opened onto the balcony, his grin dropping slightly and his gaze becoming wary as he looked at the final two figures on the penthouse level.

One was his best friend, flame-haired assassin Natasha Romanoff, and the other was a megalomaniacal deity that was, supposedly, turning over a new leaf.

Clint, however, was still cynical.

Old habits die hard, and Loki's troublemaking tendencies had been a fundamental part of his personality for centuries. As much as Loki seemed to be behaving (for the most part), and despite the fact that they were generally fairly civil with each other, the archer wasn't quite prepared to trust him just yet.

Out on the balcony, Natasha Romanoff watched, intrigued, as the alien sitting beside her carefully dipped a thin brush into a deep aquamarine paint and applied it to the canvas in front of him, tracing turquoise spirals into a nebula that nestled in a thick black background, studded with stars. Other hues of gold, reds and deep blues wove throughout the galaxies that the God was creating, the sun catching the easel as he painted and making the wet paint glisten. She was only there to supervise him and make sure he didn't cause trouble, but truth be told, she was finding it rather relaxing to watch the artwork progress. Nonetheless, she kept the button on the band around her wrist within easy reach.

_All of the Avengers had similar wristbands. Although Loki had been granted more freedom and was now allowed out of the Tower with Thor and onto the balconies, any behaviour that was interpreted as 'hostile' or 'suspicious' would result in one of the team pressing their button, resulting in an electric shock being delivered from Loki's metal collar and bracelets. When the buttons were first handed out, Clint had tested their effectiveness, immediately tapping the button 'by accident' and causing Loki to yelp through clenched teeth. He had promptly released the button at the dangerous look on both Gods' faces and hadn't used it since, although, truth be told, he was still slightly itching for Loki to give him a reason to. Despite their increasingly civil behaviour toward each other, Clint still hadn't forgiven Loki for what Loki referred to as 'that little mind-control incident.'_

Loki carefully put the clean end of the paintbrush in his mouth, clamping it between his teeth, and then used his fingers to blend the colours of the nebula that he was working on. He only ever got voluntarily messy while painting. The God was normally fastidious about his cleanliness and appearance.

'It was a good call Tony made, getting you that easel, then, was it?' The assassin asked calmly, already knowing the answer to her question.

Loki grunted noncommittally around the paintbrush in his mouth, jerking his head slightly in agreement. Tony had bought the God the easel and paints by way of a thank-you for Loki 'improving' Tony's birthday party the previous month, after noticing that Loki had somehow managed to trick JARVIS's sensors for long enough to allow him to steal several sheets of paper and pencils from Tony's workshop and begin sketching in an attempt to alleviate his boredom. The deity appeared to have an aptitude for art that had taken everyone but Thor by surprise. Loki wiped his fingers on a torn purple rag that lay beneath the easel (actually a piece of one of Bruce's old shirts that had been destroyed during a Hulk-out) and removed the brush from his mouth, wrinkling his nose distastefully at the slight taste of paint as he did so.

'It certainly has helped prevent me from going insane with boredom, I'll admit.'

'And that's a good thing, because when you get bored, you manipulate and kill people, right?' The flame-haired spy answered dryly.

Loki chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair to get a better view of his painting.

'I believe that on a few occasions in the past, you have also been guilty of that particular character defect, Agent Romanoff, or was Stark lying to me?'

Natasha gritted her teeth. 'Stark hacked my files again?'

'I can only speculate,' he replied calmly, still studying the canvas.

Natasha also leaned back in her chair, grumbling under her breath in Russian. Loki smirked in amusement, fully understanding every word she was saying. Despite himself, he'd become slightly fond of the assassin. Ever since that incident on the Helicarrier all that time ago, he'd had a grudging respect for her. He had met few people who could lie and manipulate others quite as well as she could. She was reasonably interesting, and reasonably intelligent, as well. A worthy opponent.

Although she would never admit it, Natasha had a grudging respect for Loki, as well. It wasn't often she met someone else who could tell lies even more fluently than her. And she'd actually picked up some new knife-throwing techniques.

She continued watching Loki's painting develop, lounging comfortably in her chair and enjoying the easy silence.

Back in the penthouse, the elevator dinged, the doors slid open and Tony Stark bounded out, tossing a package of pop-tarts at Thor's head and dumping an enormous box of donuts on the bar between Bruce and Steve. Steve leaned forward to inspect the box, on top of which was some piece of complex –looking machinery that was slowly leaking engine oil onto the white cardboard. The supersoldier glanced up at the billionaire, his one raised eyebrow making the apprehension evident on his face. Tony smirked sheepishly and leaned over the bar, plucking the engine part from the top of the box and depositing it on the marble worktop.

'Don't give me that look, Cap. The oil probably hasn't leaked through the cardboard.'

The second eyebrow joined the first.

'And even if it has, you've got, like, a super-fast-metabolism anyway, right? You should be able to break down engine oil, no problem.'

Steve tipped his head on one side, staring at Tony skeptically.

Tony sniffed. 'Fine. Just eat around the oily bits, then.' He started walking away, muttering to himself. 'Hey, Tony brought us donuts! Thank you, Tony! You didn't have to do that, Tony! We're very grateful, Tony. You're such a kind, altruistic person, Tony…'

'Fine! I'm sorry! Thank you,' Steve called after the retreating billionaire, flipping the box open. He turned back to see that Bruce had immediately snagged one of the donuts, Clint had swung down from his perch in the air shaft to pluck another one from the box, and Thor now had a ring-donut clamped in his mouth as he made irritated grunting noises, scrabbling to open the box of pop-tarts that Tony had thrown at him. A light dusting of sugar was coating his face and turning his beard white.

'Hey, where's Dr. Horrible?' Tony called.

'Balcony,' Clint answered thickly, through a mouthful of donut.

Tony wandered to the French doors, stepping through to where the God and the spy were talking. Natasha nodded at him in acknowledgement. Loki didn't look up from his painting, but tipped his head to one side as if listening to something.

"Thor is making those ridiculous frustrated noises that he produces when he is hungry and food is inaccessible." The God said calmly. "What did you do?"

Tony grinned, looking slightly guilty. "Superglued the flaps on the poptart box and reinforced the edges on the inside to make it harder to open."

Loki still didn't look up from the painting, but he smirked and he nodded appreciatively. "Not bad."

"I've been picking up tips from the master, but I have much to learn at the art of mischief-making, Sensei." Tony replied, pressing his palms together and making a dramatic mock-bow.

Loki's grin got even wider, as Natasha shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously?" she asked. "How long did it take you to reinforce the box?"

"About fifteen minutes, give or take," Tony replied, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Natasha raised a sharp eyebrow. "Fifteen minutes, just to watch Thor failing to get into a poptart box?"

"Look at him, Romanoff. That is the enormous, all-powerful Norse God of Thunder, making noises like a hungry puppy as he fails to open a small cardboard box. Fifteen minutes? I'd have happily spent thirty, if I'd known the result was gonna be this good."

Loki let out a quiet huff of amusement through his nose at that, still looking critically at the easel before him. Natasha shook her head in disbelief, but a slight smile curved the corner of her mouth.

Tony glanced at the painting in front of Loki, which was now nearly finished.

"Whoa. Someone's been busy."

The scene on the canvas was clearly the Manhattan skyline that could be seen from the balcony of the tower – but with a difference. The glass and metal skyscrapers that formed the landscape were sleeker and more elegant in the painting. The Chrysler building had instead become an immense golden spire, with columns of crystal and obsidian spiraling around it and glinting in the light. The shorter, blockier buildings of the city seemed to be composed of crystal and gold, with ornate designs crawling up the walls, or had become immense glass citadels that reflected the sky above – a sky studded with stars, with nebulae floating above the city and bouncing light of every colour off the glass and crystal below. As Tony studied the painting more closely, it even seemed that the water surrounding the island was shining like molten silver, and the bridges stretching across that water all looked faintly rainbow-coloured. Tony suddenly realized that Loki had painted New York as if it was Asgard.

Loki was staring intently at the painting, his eyes wide and vaguely mournful. Tony supposed that he was reconciling himself with the fact that he wouldn't be able to go back to Asgard for quite some time. New York was going to have to be his home for a while. The billionaire felt a slight jolt of pity for the insane God as he looked down at him.

"It's really something, isn't it?" Natasha asked Tony quietly, nodding her head towards the painting.

Tony nodded slowly. "It's something, all right."

He paused for a moment, then took a few steps back into the penthouse, beckoning to Natasha as he did so. The assassin hesitated, then looked at Loki and made up her mind. Rising from her chair silently, she followed Tony indoors. They glanced back to see Loki still siting in his chair, looking smaller without his heavy armour, clad only in his leather trousers, boots and dark green tunic. He was still staring at the painting intently, his fist clenched so tightly around the paintbrush he was still holding that the knuckles had turned completely white.

* * *

Later that evening, darkness was just beginning to paw at the windows and the lights were flickering on around Manhattan, as Tony, Bruce, Natasha and Steve sat on two of the sofas that surrounded the fireplace, watching the news on television. Clint was raiding the fridge, keeping his keen eyes trained on the two gods in the room, both fast asleep on the third sofa. Thor was snoring loudly, taking up most of the sofa, his mouth slightly open as his head rested on his little brother's shoulder. Loki was neatly nestled in the corner of the sofa, head tipped back on the cushions, the pale column of his throat exposed in a rare, uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. Unlike his brother, he slept completely silently and was utterly still, apart from the occasional twitches behind his eyelids that betrayed the fact that he was dreaming. An especially loud snore from Thor made the Avengers turn around and look at them both curiously.

"Is Loki actually letting Thor sleep on his shoulder?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Loki fell asleep first," Natasha replied, turning back to the television. "Reforming supervillain or not, there's no way that he'd let anyone sleep on him knowingly. He'd probably have stabbed Thor if he'd tried to sleep on him while Loki was still awake."

"Wouldn't stop the big guy, though," Tony added. "Far as he's concerned, that's still his ickle baby brother's shoulder that he's snoozing on."

This last comment was answered by a derisive snort from Clint, who was still rooting through the fridge.

Suddenly a loud clap of thunder sounded outside the window, making them all jump as heavy rain began pounding at the window. They all spun warily to look at Thor, as the God's brow creased and his jaw tightened. Clutched in both hands, and glowing slightly, was Mjolnir.

"Arrrgh." Tony made a panicky noise as he leapt off the sofa, hurrying over to Thor with his glass of scotch still in his hand. "I think the L'oreal Viking's having a nightmare."

"Well, wake him up before he summons lightning and kills us all in his sleep, will you?" Clint called calmly, walking back to the sofa with a sandwich in his hand and plopping himself down beside Natasha. Tony hesitantly poked Thor in the shoulder. "Hey, Point Break? Wakey, wakey."

No response.

"Rise and shine. Shake a leg," Tony said, slightly louder, now slapping Thor's arm.

There was still no response, other than Thor making a grumbling noise in his sleep. A bolt of lightning shot past the window, again making everyone jump.

Natasha sighed. "_Pади бога_." She got up gracefully, stepping over Bruce's legs and walking over to the sleeping Gods. She tucked Thor's blond hair out of the way to expose his ear, and calmly leaned over the back of the sofa, whispering "hey, Thor. Frost Giants stole your poptarts."

Thor's eyes shot open and he rolled off the sofa with a panicked grunt, landing on the floor in a heap and sitting bolt upright, looking around with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "Frost Giants? Where?"

Natasha straightened up smugly as Loki growled slightly in his sleep, his brow creasing, as some part of his brain registered the words "frost giants."

"You mind switching off the light show?" Tony asked Thor dryly, nodding at the windows, which were still being pelted with rain. Thor blinked sheepishly, and, as he gestured at the windows with Mjolnir, the lightning and the sounds of the thunder subsided, although it continued to drizzle. Thor got to his feet unsteadily, pushing his hair out of his face. "Apologies, Tony. I did not mean to – "

Tony cut him off, waving a hand airily. "No harm done. Wouldn't have bothered us if you hadn't been messing up the TV signal."

Thor's brow suddenly creased as he remembered how he had been woken, and turned to Natasha. "Frost Giants stealing my poptarts? Really?"

Natasha shrugged nonchalantly, an amused smirk on her face. She was about to reply when JARVIS's voice echoed throughout the room.

"_Security System "angry pirate detector' activated. Sir, Director Fury is attempting to contact you. Shall I put the call through_?"

Tony glanced at Loki, still fast asleep on the third sofa. "Er…yeah, but frame the image so Fury can't see Loki. I really don't want to have to spend another ten minutes listening to Fury bitching about him not being in the cage."

"_Very good, Sir."_

The panel on the wall above the fireplace slid open to reveal the SHIELD communications screen. Natasha, Clint and Steve sat on one sofa, Tony and Bruce on the other. As Fury's face appeared, Thor walked over to stand next to Tony and Bruce so that he would be visible. Loki, still slouched on the opposite sofa, was out of sight.

"Evening," Fury said. "Everything under control over there?"

"Everything's peachy, Mom," Tony replied, wearing the smile that somehow managed to be both smug and innocent. The one reserved for when he was trying to annoy Fury.

"Don't call me Mom, Stark. And I wasn't talking to you. Barton? Romanoff?"

"…Everything's under control, Director. No problems." Clint replied, the majority of his attention focused on his sandwich.

"And Loki?" Fury continued, leaning closer to the camera sternly.

"Is doing surprisingly well," Natasha answered. A few pranks here and there, when he gets bored, but they tend to be pretty harmless. So no, no problems, apart from some of us going a little stir-crazy from being in the tower so long."

"Well, it appears I'm about to make your day then, Agent Romanoff," Fury replied. "We need the Avengers – primarily Rogers and Stark, though– to go to Washington. It's a PR thing. Barton and Romanoff, obviously we need you to continue staying out of the public eye, and Dr. Banner, you only need do what you feel relaxed and comfortable doing. But to keep the public happy, we need to show that the Avengers are still united and firmly on the side of the United States Government when it comes to protecting citizens."

Tony groaned, falling back on the sofa.

"So you want us to act like we're at the beck and call of the Government? And that'll help people feel safe?" Steve asked skeptically. "People don't trust the Government as much as they did in the 40s, Nick. From what I've learned about the later part of the century, they're probably right not to. You think that acting like we just mindlessly follow the Government's orders is going to reassure the public?"

"I'm saying a public appearance with the President will help to show that all of you are on the side of _America_, at least," Fury responded calmly. "The members of this team have the capacity to be dangerous as Hell. So, this Wednesday, we need you to go to the White House, mingle, and let people know that you're still prepared and willing to defend the inhabitants of this planet. Doesn't have to be particularly political, Cap. Just look friendly. If you see a baby, pick it up, smile at it and make sure you're photographed being all good with kids and stuff." He paused, thinking. "Ask the mom before you go picking up any babies, though."

"And what about me?" Thor asked. "I understand that Agent Clint and Agent Natasha need to avoid appearances before the public, but am I to go, too?"

"I'll leave that choice up to you," Fury answered. "You can go if you want, sure. Might be useful to personally reassure people that we have Asgard's allegiance. But technically you're not obligated to go – and it's Stark and the Captain that are the most well acquainted with interviews and mingling with high-profile figures, so if you'd prefer, you can just let them speak on your behalf."

Thor nodded slowly, undecided.

"Why don't we all go to Washington?" Steve asked. "It'd be nice to get out of the tower for a while, and you can make a decision about whether you want to make a public appearance when we get there, Thor."

"Sounds like a plan," Tony piped up, immediately becoming more cheerful at the prospect. If the entire team went, maybe this wouldn't be such a dull event after all.

"Agreed, then," Fury replied. Behave yourself, Stark. No drinking."

Tony rolled his eyes. "See, _that _is why I call you Mom."

Fury glared at him, but apparently didn't even think that that comment was worthy of an answer. He turned to the agents on the other sofa. "Barton and Romanoff, I want you out of sight keeping an eye on things. Obviously this would be a prime target for any kind of attack, and this needs to go smoothly."

Natasha and Clint nodded, Clint stifling an enthusiastic grin through his sandwich. It had been weeks since either had been given an assignment and both assassins were beginning to go slightly insane.

"Good luck, then," Fury concluded. "I'll talk to you all when you get back."

With that, his image vanished from the screen, which then folded backwards neatly and was neatly covered again by the sliding wall panel.

Steve sighed slightly. "Not sure I'll ever properly get used to all your gadgets, Stark," he yawned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Welcome to the future," Tony replied.

"Right. _The Future_," Steve grinned. "Your father assured us that everyone in America would have floating cars by now."

Tony turned his head slowly to look at the soldier, one eyebrow raised as high as it would go. He was making an effort to look wounded by Steve's comment but was clearly amused.

"He's working on it, Steve," Bruce said quietly, with a teasing smile directed at Tony. "Every car in America will be fitted with repulsor technology instead of wheels, free of charge. You can afford to do that, right Tony?"

Tony quickly swiveled on the sofa, pulling his legs up onto the seat and wriggling his bare feet between Bruce's back and the sofa cushions. He then proceeded to try and use his legs as leverage to shove Bruce off the sofa, scrunching his face up with effort as he did so.

"Don't make me angry," Bruce warned, right before he was unceremoniously shoved from his seat and landed on his butt on the floor. Tony let out a triumphant cry of what sounded like "_WHACHAAAAA_" and threw his arms up dramatically, beaming. "Whaddaya think, Thor? Mighty warrior, right? Your Asgardian soldiers got nothing on me."

Thor burst out laughing. "It was a well-fought battle, Tony."

"Damn right. I technically just beat the Hulk in a wrestling match. I'm probably worthy to hold the hammer, now."

Thor immediately offered Mjolnir towards Tony, smiling innocently, but with a mischievous glint in his eye that was reminiscent of his brother.

Tony hopped off the sofa and backed away rapidly. "Nah, big guy, I wouldn't want to show you up or anything. You hang onto it for now."

Clint snorted loudly. Steve and Natasha had also started grinning, after they had checked to make sure that Bruce wasn't annoyed about being kicked onto the floor. They needn't have worried. Bruce was still cross-legged on the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

The cheerful atmosphere was suddenly broken by a delicate cough from the opposite sofa. Loki was awake, and judging from the alert expression and arched eyebrow, he had been for some time.

"My apologies for interrupting," he began, "but may I ask what you intend to do with me when you travel to Washington? Am I to accompany you, or will I be remaining here in the tower?"

Steve was silent for a moment.

"…I suppose…yeah, you can come with us," he replied carefully. "Since we all seem to be going anyway, it seems like that'd actually be safer. I don't think leaving you in the tower without supervision would be a particularly good idea."

Loki inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"You've got the shock bracelets, still, so you can go and do a bit of sightseeing with Thor, I suppose," Tony added. "Same deal as usual when you go for walks, he carries the portable unit and if you go too far away you get zapped. Other than that, it should be fine."

"We're actually going to let him wander around and go _sightseeing_?" Clint asked.

"The alternative is to take him with us to The White House," Natasha replied grimly. "With the President. And senators. And military personnel. And a ridiculous number of reporters and photographers, not to mention the members of the public that'll be surrounding the place. That sounds kind of like a recipe for total chaos, Clint."

"Fair point," Clint conceded, glancing at Loki, who now had a worryingly innocent smile on his face. "Make sure you keep a close eye on him then, Thor."

"I have seen Midgardians walking with their children in the Central Park…" Thor replied, walking over to sit beside his brother. "I believe there are leashes that can be attached to the belts of small children, to prevent them from running away?" He was struggling valiantly to keep a straight face as he spoke. "Perhaps one of these should be made for Loki."

Clint and Tony immediately began trying to stifle their giggles. Natasha, Bruce and Steve were attempting to look serious, but the mental image was too much. Small bursts of laughter kept bubbling up and the corners of their mouths were twitching violently.

Loki pointedly ignored both Thor's comment and the laughter from the other two sofas. Instead, he rose gracefully from his seat, stretched languidly, turned on his heel and began stalking out of the room, head held high.

"No scathing rejoinder, Loki?" Thor called after him, grinning, as the laughter behind him grew louder.

"Alas, Thor, it seems you have outwitted me today," Loki replied, not looking back as he continued on his way to the door.

Thor's grin faltered slightly as the sofa shifted under him…and suddenly became freezing cold. And vanilla- scented. And considerably less supportive of his weight. Mjolnir, which had been resting on the cushion next to him, immediately sank straight down into the substance, making a dull _clonk_ as it hit the floor. Thor was also sinking downwards, becoming almost entirely enveloped in the freezing white substance as it melted across the floor. The giggles from the rest of the team had now turned into full-blown hysterical laughter at the sight of the Thor floundering around in it.

Thor was loudly cursing his brother but the curses were somewhat lacking in tone, due to the fact that he was laughing so hard.

"_DAMMIT_!" Tony yelled at Loki's retreating back, trying desperately to sound stern. "I told you after the last three times, you _cannot_ keep turning my furniture into ice-cream! You _promised_!"

"So I did, Stark," Loki replied, turning back with a sharp grin as he reached the door. "I promised that I would not turn any more of your furniture into ice cream. And if you would bother to take the time to actually _check _what Thor is currently sitting in, you would see that it is not ice cream at all. It is, in fact, frozen yoghurt, and I am therefore technically still a man of my word. Goodnight."

The entire team collapsed in fits of laughter as Loki turned and smugly walked out of the room. Even Natasha and Steve, who were normally better at maintaining a poker face, had completely lost all semblance of composure or dignity. Clint and Bruce were both lying on the floor in the fetal position, tears rolling down their faces. Thor's pose mirrored theirs, except he was still lying in the middle of a puddle of freezing cold yoghurt.

"That's a dirty trick," Tony yelled after Loki, but he was still hiccupping with a violent fit of the giggles.

"It's your fault for leaving me a loophole when you outlined your rules, Stark," came the triumphant reply, as Loki proceeded down the corridor to the elevator.

"God, I'm gonna have to hire a lawyer. I'm banning _all _frozen dairy products, okay?" Tony hollered back.

Loki shrugged, pressing the elevator button. "No matter. There are plenty of other foodstuffs. I'll move on to chocolate fondue."

And the way Steve's head suddenly snapped up at the word "_fondue_" finally sent Tony into paroxysms of laughter like the rest of the team, collapsing on the floor and laughing until his cheeks and stomach hurt.

The sound of their helpless laughter followed Loki all the way back to his rooms, echoing up the elevator shaft. He closed the door and walked across the room to lean against the window, listening to the faint sounds from above as he looked out over the lights of the New York skyline. He was surprised at how pleased he'd been at making them all laugh like that. It was a satisfying feeling.

And then another sudden thought struck him and caused the corners of his lips to twist upwards in a smile.

He looked down at the golden electric shock bands around his wrists, studying them with a self-satisfied grin. He'd been using steadily increasing amounts of magic recently, and he hadn't been shocked as a result in weeks. Either JARVIS's sensors were becoming desensitized to his magic due to how frequently it was being used now, or he was just getting better at fooling them.

Whichever it was, if he was able to use magic, the trip to Washington had the potential to be a lot more fun than he'd anticipated.

Loki grinned, his eyes glinting as they reflected the lights of the city.

* * *

Four days later, the entire team, plus Loki, were in a Quinjet on the way to Washington. Tony and Steve were both wearing sharp, tailored suits, while Natasha and Clint, sitting in the pilots' seats, were both in their usual dark assassins' clothing. Bruce, having decided not to attend the formal event, was dressed more casually, but he had agreed to remain close by in case there was any trouble.

"I hate these events," Tony grumbled, fiddling idly with his cufflinks. "They're always so _boring_."

"Yeah, well, an _interesting_ day for us usually means there's a high risk of death," Steve replied. "A day of boredom might actually make a nice change."

"I'm not sure how likely a day of boredom is, with Loki being allowed to wander around freely," Bruce added. "He does have a tendency to…well, make things interesting."

All three of them glanced over at Thor and Loki, who were standing behind Natasha and Clint, studying the instruments of the cockpit. Both of them were dressed casually, so as to draw the minimum amount of attention to themselves. Thor had tied his hair into a low ponytail and had donned a grey t-shirt, red flannel shirt and jeans. Mjolnir was safely stowed in a sturdy black rucksack that was slung over his shoulder. (Loki had initially flat-out refused to wear jeans and a t-shirt like his brother, arguing that if he had to dress like a Midgardian, there was nothing wrong with his usual black suit. A compromise had eventually been reached. After a short style discussion with Natasha, Loki had consented to wear smart black jeans and a dark green t-shirt with a suit jacket. It was as close to casual as they were going to get.

"_Oh my God," _Tony had muttered, when Loki was finally satisfied with his clothing choice._ "If vanity was an Olympic sport…"_

"_Then you would be the standing champion,"_ Loki had replied acerbically, and had silently turned the contents of Tony's plastic bottle of water into a 50:50 mix of pure vodka and white vinegar before leaving the room.)

It was unusual to see the two Asgardians standing so close to one another for such a long period of time, but the brothers seemed to be intently discussing the workings of the Quinjet.

"Loki actually seems to be doing pretty well," Tony muttered to Bruce and Steve. "You never know, maybe this might actually go smoothly."

The other two stared at him skeptically.

"When does that ever happen?" Steve asked.

"Allow me to dream," Tony replied, as Thor turned around and began to walk towards them, Loki slowly following in his wake. "You two have a nice chat?" He asked.

"It is interesting observing your flying machines," Thor replied. The technology appears to be slightly similar to the ones we used to have back on Asgard."

"I'm sorry, _used to have_?" Tony repeated. This jet is state-of-the-art."

"State-of-the-art for Midgard, yes," Loki replied, rather smugly. "However, the layout and the technology is rather more akin to the ones that were in use when Thor and I were very young children."

"And how long ago was that?" Tony asked.

"Just over a thousand years ago," Loki answered.

"Jesus. So how old actually are you?"

"One thousand and forty nine." Loki replied easily.

"Wow. Suddenly I feel less ancient," Steve muttered to himself.

"And you said Asgardians live around five thousand years, right?" Tony continued.

"More or less," Thor answered. "Unless they become sick, or fall in battle."

Tony did the calculations instantly. "So in human years…oh my _God,_ you'd be, like… eighteen."

There was a moment of silence as he contemplated that revelation. Then he started hooting with laughter.

"So this has all been part of your rebellious teenage phase?"

Loki just stared at him with a look of disdain.

"We shouldn't be letting you drink alcohol," Tony said, still grinning widely. "In human years, you're still under the legal drinking age."

Loki's face darkened.

"So you're both interested in aeronautics?" Bruce asked hastily, before Loki strangled Tony and ruined all the hard work they'd put into his rehabilitation.

"It is fascinating to see how they compare to Asgardian designs, yes," Thor answered, "especially those used in warfare."

"You should go to the Smithsonian while we're in Washington, then," Steve suggested. "The National Air and Space Museum."

"Look at the Star-Spangled Boy Scout promoting his exhibit there," Tony whispered to Bruce in a stage whisper. Steve, hearing him easily, punched him gently in the shoulder with a good-natured smile.

"It's as good an idea as any, I suppose," Loki muttered.

* * *

Two hours later, Tony, Steve, Clint and Natasha were all at the White House, while Bruce, Thor and Loki wandered around the National Air and Space Museum. Thor was eagerly examining the exhibits, loudly making comments about them to his brother, while Bruce answered all of Thor's questions to the best of his ability. However, although he found the exhibits engaging for a while, Loki's mind was primarily occupied with the desire to test the extent to which he could fool the electric shock bracelets he still wore. Since it was clearly possible to use increasing amounts of magic without receiving a shock, maybe he would be able to fool the proximity sensors as well. Not that he had a specific plan about what he would do if he managed it. It would just be nice to walk somewhere independently for a change.

Making up his mind, Loki waited until Thor turned to ask Bruce another question, and then silently slipped behind another exhibit, making sure he was also hidden from any CCTV cameras. Crouching down out of sight, he focused on the shock bracelets, created an image of himself and slowly painted it into the air to form an exact duplicate. The bracelets around his wrists crackled, but the quick shock he received was more of an uncomfortable static buzz than the agonising burst of energy that he was more familiar with. He passed his hand in front of the duplicate, imbuing it with an additional spell, one that hopefully would fool the sensor clipped to Thor's belt. As long as the duplicate didn't get too far away from Thor, Loki would be able to move more than 30 feet away without the sensors picking it up. In theory, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Loki, still crouching behind the exhibit, tentatively sent his duplicate back out into the room to stand beside Thor. It was a strange feeling – because he was mentally controlling the duplicate, he could see what it was seeing, inside his head. He had two different perspectives on the room. Inside his head, he could see Thor as if standing directly beside him, and yet with his own eyes, he was viewing his brother from behind, from his concealed position in the corner.

Making sure that Bruce and Thor were facing away from the door, Loki slipped out from his hiding place and, using a group of English tourists as cover, sidled out of the room and back into the main hall of the museum. The bracelets let out a quiet, prolonged whine as he did so, and then were silent again. Loki grinned. As tempting as it was, he had no plans to cause any major chaos, especially since the Avengers were all nearby. No, at this stage, it was a better idea to simply see how much he'd be able to get away with without anyone noticing. He began to walk slowly through the hall, steadily getting further and further away from his brother, but there was still no reaction apart from a quiet, anguished sounding whine and a few clicking noises coming from the bracelets. Loki smirked in amusement. The noises the bracelets were making seemed almost indignant, as if appalled that he'd managed to trick them.

Thor's voice suddenly echoed inside his head, and Loki realised that back in the other room, his brother had just asked the duplicate a question. Frantically trying to remember what Thor had just asked, he mentally sent a command to the duplicate to just make a noncommittal noise of agreement, hoping that that was the correct response to whatever Thor had asked. He held his breath nervously, but saw in his mind that Thor had just nodded and continued chatting to Bruce amicably. Releasing his breath in a relieved huff, Loki mentally berated himself for not paying more attention to what the duplicate was seeing and hearing. If his double wasn't acting normally, Thor would realize what was going on. Though Loki hated to admit it, Thor wasn't stupid. Not as clever as _he _was, of course, but ever since he'd been sent to Midgard a while back he'd actually been getting more perceptive and interested in gaining knowledge. He was now much more keen to listen to the thoughts and opinions of others, and his new-found humility and concern for the feelings and wellbeing of others made it much harder to hide things from him. Loki supposed that it was probably due to the influence of this 'Jane Foster' woman. He still hadn't met her, and he wasn't sure whether his response upon doing so would be to congratulate her on the positive effects she'd had on his brother, or to be annoyed at how much harder she'd made it to cause trouble behind Thor's back.

Still moving slowly and carefully monitoring what was happening with his duplicate in his mind's eye, Loki wandered further into the main hall, reveling in his sudden freedom. Turning his head slightly to look around, a sign suddenly caught his attention, making him jump.

It was a large poster of Captain Rogers's face, with the words underneath signaling the entrance of the exhibition devoted to him. Loki's eyebrow raised sceptically at the notion of an entire exhibit dedicated to the Captain – yes, his increased strength, speed and healing capabilities were fascinating, but overall, Loki had always found Rogers' overdeveloped moral compass and his unwavering sense of right and wrong to be rather dull. Loki was far fonder of moral ambiguity. Now, Stark, Banner, _Romanoff_ – their storied pasts made them a great deal more interesting in Loki's eyes. But then again…the Captain never talked a great deal about his past, and he did have a tendency to get a little touchy and withdrawn when asked about it. Maybe there were some darker areas in Rogers' past that he didn't care to revisit?

Loki wavered for a moment but eventually (as always) curiosity got the better of him. He ducked into the darkened corridor that led to the exhibition, knowing that he was pushing his luck regarding Thor and the duplicate. Ah well. He'd be quick.

The room was darkly lit, with a looped track of patriotic music and the sounds of explosions playing over speakers. Loki stalked around the perimeter of the room, keeping to the shadows as he scanned the images and text on the walls.

_Dr. Erskine…_

_Supersoldiers…_

_HYDRA…_

_The Howling Commandos…_

Loki kept moving, pausing as he passed the entrances to several small alcoves that opened off the main exhibition. Lingering in the doorway and glancing into one of them, he saw a man in a black jacket sitting on the single bench, watching a black-and-white reel of footage projected onto the wall, playing on a loop. The footage showed two men, laughing side by side. Loki startled as he recognised the man on the right as Rogers. In all the months he'd spent living in the Avengers tower, he'd never seen Rogers laugh like that before, never seen him look that openly happy. The man on the left was slightly shorter than Rogers, scruffier, with darker, shaggy hair, and although his words were inaudible, it was obvious that whatever he was saying was the cause of Rogers' laughter. His eyes still fixed on the strange image, Loki focused on the voiceover instead.

'_Best friends since childhood, Steve Rogers and James Barnes were inseparable both in the schoolyard and on the battlefield... After Rogers liberated Barnes and a number of other captured soldiers from a Hydra facility, this small group became Captain America's most trusted allies, known as 'The Howling Commandos.' Barnes was the only member of the Howling Commandos to give his life in combat.'_

His face pensive, Loki stared again at the image. The contrast between the laughing man on the screen and the more subdued, quiet soldier that he lived with was startling.

Loki suddenly became aware that the man sitting on the bench in his peripheral vision hadn't moved a muscle since he'd been watching the screen. It might as well have been a statue seated there. Dragging his attention away from the screen and finally focusing on the man, it quickly became glaringly obvious that there was something…well, _off_ about him. For a start, despite the heat of the day and the stuffy, breezeless warmth of the room, the man was wearing a thick, hooded jacket with the hood pulled down over his forehead, and as Loki glanced down, he could see that the man was also wearing thick woollen gloves. The unusual choices in clothing, in conjunction with the scuffed combat boots and military-style trousers of the sort that Barton normally wore, just confirmed that this man was no ordinary visiting tourist.

And that unnatural stillness. Loki knew that predatory stillness all too well. This was a man who knew how to hunt.

Silently, Loki stalked further into the room, deliberately staying in the man's blind spot. He rocked gently backwards on the balls of his feet before delicately bounding over the bench to sit neatly and silently beside the shadowy figure. Startled, the man snapped his head towards him, leaping off the bench and settling into a defensive stance. Within a second, though, he'd turned abruptly on his heel and sped towards the door.

That second, however, had been enough time for Loki to see his face, illuminated by the light from the screen.

The trickster tilted his head to one side, a curious smirk twisting his features.

'Barnes.'

The man froze in his tracks, silhouetted in the doorway.

'That is your name, correct?' Loki continued, casually spinning around on the bench to look at him properly. "James Buchanan Barnes, primarily of the 107th division and then of these… _"Howling Commandos."_'

Barnes was silent, staring back at Loki. His face was completely blank, save for the glints of confusion and apprehension in his eyes. His hair was longer and even more unkempt than it was on the screen, casting the hollows of his into shadow and emphasizing the dark circles around his eyes.

Loki appraised him coolly. It was a strange impression this man gave – he'd never before met anyone who looked so much like hunter and prey at the same time. He was dangerous, no doubt about that. But the uncertain posture, the confusion and fear in his eyes, the way he kept glancing towards the door… oh, yes. This was an interesting man.

'Who are you?' Barnes whispered, his voice rough and gravelly from disuse.

Gracefully, Loki rose to his feet, but seeing how Barnes instantly backed away towards the wall, he did not approach. Instead, he slowly removed his suit jacket, placing it gently on the bench, and deliberately hunched his shoulders inwards slightly, making himself appear smaller and thinner.

'My name is Loki. I know your friend Steven Rogers,' Loki said, keeping his voice low and reassuring. 'Although I got the impression that he believes you to be dead.'

Barnes' eyes widened slightly, and he took a hesitant step forward. 'I knew him,' he said.

'So I assumed,' Loki replied smoothly, gesturing idly at the footage projected on the wall.

'No, I _did_ know him. Before,' Barnes replied, a hint of desperation in his voice. 'But now…I can't remember. Not properly.'

'You last knew him in the 1940s,' Loki responded. And then, you allegedly fell from a moving train and died. Though evidence does seem to suggest that the "dying" part may have been exaggerated.'

Barnes tilted his head on one side, taking another tentative step towards Loki. Recognising Barnes's nervousness, Loki slowly sat back down on the bench, looking at the screen and allowing Barnes to approach him from the side at whatever speed he was comfortable with.

'Tell me,' Loki said quietly, turning his head to look at Barnes directly. Icy-blue eyes met emerald-green.

'I survived the fall,' Barnes replied. 'Arm was destroyed. They took it.'

'I'm sorry? They _took_ your arm?' Loki answered, raising his eyebrows.

Barnes blinked once, then slowly moved his left hand to his mouth. His teeth nipped at the index finger of the glove and pulled, and the woollen glove slid off smoothly to reveal a shining, segmented metal hand. The silver fingers flexed and fell down to rest at Barnes's side.

'Fascinating,' Loki replied, trying to keep the glee out of his voice.

_Who'd have guessed that Rogers' exhibit would turn out to be this interesting?_

Composing himself, Loki cleared his throat. 'Do go on.'

'They replaced the arm,' Barnes grated. 'Replaced everything. Destroyed me and then rebuilt me. Into a killer.'

Loki nodded solemnly. 'Lied to you about who you were and manipulated you for their own purposes?'

Barnes stared at him quizzically, cocking his head to the side silently.

'I believe I can empathise with your situation, to a certain degree. Plus I have a small amount of experience with mind control.' Loki stated calmly. 'So, _James Buchanan Barnes, _why did you come here?'

Barnes twitched slightly at the sound of his name. His right hand slowly came up to push his hood away from his face, the white light from the screen suddenly making his eyes glow bright blue.

'I was told to kill him,' he whispered. 'But I knew that I knew him. I recognised him. I couldn't do it. I ran.'

'And so you've been coming here ever since, trying to remember who you are?' Loki asked.

Barnes looked at the screen, his shoulders slumping. For the first time, he approached Loki and sat down on the bench, staring at his own face on the wall.

'That's me,' he said quietly. I can _see_ that it's me. But all of this – the things that they say happened to me – it's as if it all happened to a stranger.'

Loki was silent for a moment, staring at the lonely, confused man sitting beside him. The black and white image of Barnes' own face was reflected in his eyes, but there was no recognition there, only confusion and sadness. Loki couldn't quite explain why, but something about Barnes' story was resonating with him. Looking back at the footage, Loki made his mind up. The two laughing best friends on the screen both had glints of mischief and joy in their eyes and Loki actually felt a stab of anger when he compared them to the broken man beside him and the subdued, lonely Captain that he lived with. If he could do something to return that glimmer of laughter and mischief to Rogers' eyes, surely he'd be neglecting his duties as the God of Mischief if he didn't do it?

Loki took a deep breath. 'Tell me what you _do_ remember about who you were, Barnes. Not what you've learned about yourself while you've been in the museum, but what you _remember_.'

'I remember his face,' Barnes replied, pointing at the screen with his metal arm. 'We were laughing. I remember falling from the train…And another time….He…I think he was being punched by someone….but he was… smaller? I helped him.'

'Anything else?' Loki prompted.

'It's…I don't know if it counts as a memory,' Barnes replied, looking down at his hands, one shiny metal, one covered in black wool, twisted together in his lap. 'But when I was sent to kill him and he saw my face…he called me Bucky.'

'Bucky?' Loki replied, raising an eyebrow.

The soldier nodded. 'It says on the display out there that he always called me Bucky. I don't know if it counts as a memory, but it just…it felt right.'

Loki nodded curtly, rising to his feet. 'Are you able to get from here to New York?'

"Bucky" nodded slowly. 'Why?' he asked slowly, his tone wary.

'Because I'd like to try and help you,' Loki replied. 'Allow me to study the damage done to your brain, and if I can work out exactly what was done, I may be able to reverse some of it.'

Bucky shook his head slowly, rising to his feet as well. 'No. No more surgery. No more pain.'

'I don't need to cut your head open, Barnes,' Loki said, trying to hide any hints of irritation in his voice. 'It'll be harder, but I should be able to ascertain the damage without invasive surgery. And I would cause no more pain than absolutely necessary.'

'That doesn't sound humanly possible,' Bucky replied, still apprehensive. He was slowly moving backwards into the shadows again.

'There is one thing about me you need to remember very carefully, Barnes,' Loki replied, his hands and eyes flaring with a small amount of green light. 'I am _not_ human.'

Bucky, still standing half in shadow, was absolutely silent.

'I currently reside in the Avengers Tower,' Loki continued smoothly. 'Be at the abandoned warehouse alongside the river, the one closest to the tower, at 3am on Sunday morning.'

'How do I know I can trust you?' Bucky replied. He was clearly attempting to sound impassive, but Loki could hear a hint of hope creeping into his voice.

'Trust my boredom.' Loki replied. 'It'll be an interesting project, and if the captain gets his best friend back, I'd wager he might become easier to live with.'

'Don't tell him you saw me,' Bucky answered quickly, desperately.

'Why not?'

'He'll try to help.' Bucky replied, quietly. He looked at the screen, at Steve's grinning face. 'If I really was his best friend, I don't want him seeing me if it doesn't work. Don't tell.'

Loki paused, then nodded carefully. 'Agreed.'

Bucky inclined his head in thanks, and then slowly moved forward to sit on the bench again.

Loki nodded back at him, then made for the exit. Pausing in the doorway and glancing back, though, he couldn't resist trying one more illusion. Raising his hand to the projector, he carefully used a few sparks of magic to alter a few elements of the image, hoping that it wouldn't set off the bracelets (he was really pushing his luck here). Satisfied with the changed image, he turned and left.

Bucky whipped around to look at him, but Loki had already gone. He slowly turned back to look at the film, staring at it with wide eyes.

The Bucky in the footage now had much longer hair, shaggy, unkempt, shoulder-length and falling into his eyes, and his left arm was segmented, shiny and metallic. There were darker rings under his eyes, and his physique was more muscular than before. But he was grinning and smiling, and standing close on his left, Captain Steve Rogers was laughing at something he'd just said.

Loki hurried out of the exhibition, cursing inwardly at how much time he'd spent away from his brother. Still, the Hulk didn't seem to be rampaging through the museum, so hopefully that meant that he hadn't been discovered. He stood in the corner between the wall and the stairs, desperately looking around for Thor and Banner. With a sigh of relief, he saw them emerging from a different room, his double still trailing along sullenly behind them as Thor chatted amicably over his shoulder, dividing his attention equally between his two companions. Loki cast around for a potential distraction that he could use to get rid of the double and take its place without his brother or, more importantly, The Hulk, noticing him. Inspiration struck in the form of an obnoxiously loud and brash tourist on the other side of the hall. Sidling along the wall behind Banner and Thor, Loki conjured a tiny patch of ice on the floor in front of the man, directly underneath where he was about to place his foot. Of course, his prediction of the man's movements was perfect. The man lost his footing, crashing to the ground and sliding several feet on his belly along the polished floor. Thor immediately dashed forward to help the man to his feet, and as Loki crept forwards to walk straight into his double, with it dissipating on contact, he allowed himself a small, indulgent smile at his brother's eagerness to help people.

As Thor returned to stand by Loki and Banner, he gave no indication that he had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Loki relaxed, and allowed a strong feeling of pride and smugness to fill him.

'So, what did you two think of the museum?' Banner asked, as they left to meet up with the rest of the team and fly back to New York.

'It turned out to be a lot more interesting than I had initially anticipated,' Loki replied.

'Did I not tell you it would be, brother?' Thor asked, beaming at Loki as they walked.

For once, Loki returned his grin.

* * *

On Saturday night, Loki feigned tiredness and went to bed early, lying on the mattress and staring at the ceiling. This would be a lot riskier than what he had done at the museum. He had to go a lot further without being detected, and he would have to use magic while he was out without alerting the sensors. Knowledge of the risk, however, had given him a sense of exhilaration that he hadn't experienced in a while. That feeling was what he lived for. Since the night they'd returned from Washington, Loki had been making preparations for this. Runes were now carefully etched onto the edge of the doorframe facing the wall, making it almost impossible to spot them. Once activated, in the event of anyone approaching his door, that person would be filled with a sense of apathy and boredom the closer they got. With any luck, no one would manage to get close enough to check if he was actually in the room. On the underside of the tasteful green-and gold rug on the floor, Loki had daubed an intricate web of runes and spellwork that would create a convincing double to occupy the room while he was out. Hopefully, all it would need to do was act like it was asleep, but if it became necessary, it would be able to answer basic questions in a convincingly sardonic tone. Back on Asgard, this kind of spellwork would often be painted in goat's blood or a similar substance, but due to the distinct lack of goats in the Avengers tower, Loki had ended up using a pack of Sharpies that he'd stolen from Stark's workshop. He'd also made a couple of leather bands with cloaking runes on them, to wear around his wrists and neck, over the shock bracelets, intended to disrupt the signals and stop JARVIS from detecting him. He'd practiced wearing them a few times over the course of the week, and the AI hadn't seemed to notice him. Now all that was left for him to do was to wait and hope that he'd got his estimations right.

Rogers invariably went to bed early, as did Bruce. Their fast metabolisms meant that both of them tended to need a lot of sleep, and Bruce in particular slept very deeply. Clint and Natasha often spent their afternoons sparring in the gym, so with luck, both of them would also be exhausted enough to not cause him any trouble. Thor always passed out contentedly after eating a lot (which he had, Loki had made sure of it,) and as for Stark – he never slept much, but spent most of his free evenings in his workshop, tinkering with various pieces of technology or on his cars until he fell asleep, curled up on the concrete floor and covered in engine grease. So with any luck, he wouldn't be a problem either.

At exactly 1am, Loki activated the runes under the rug and on his doorframe, checking to make sure that his double had appeared and lain down on the bed before he opened the door, silently padding down the corridor. Rather than call the elevator and have a record of the elevator being called at that time, Loki sighed and jogged all the way down the stairs to the ground floor. Once out of the building, he paused in the street to make sure that no alarms in the building were going off – and finding it completely quiet, he laughed triumphantly and set off towards the river, running just for the sake of being able to, reveling in the knowledge that for once he wasn't being followed or monitored by anyone.

He reached the collection of abandoned warehouses by the river at 2:30am, having slowed to a walk and allowing himself to enjoy the cool breeze on his face. He expected to have to wait for Barnes, but the soldier's familiar figure was leaning on the railings by the water's edge, the light glinting off the metal wrist and hand that protruded from his jacket sleeve.

'Mr Barnes,' Loki called from a distance, so as not so startle the assassin.

Bucky turned quickly, relaxing slightly when he saw that Loki was alone.

'So glad you could make it,' Loki continued. 'Shall we?'

He turned and began to walk into the building, not bothering to check whether Barnes was following. He knew he would be.

After quickly scouting the building, Loki decided that the large, open space on the second floor would be best for the work, as it would be easy to escape if necessary, provided the best views of the sidewalk outside, and was also the best lit area of the building, due to the streetlights and single floodlight outside. Loki dragged an old chair from the corner into the centre of the room, patting the backrest mock-invitingly as he looked at Barnes.

Bucky was staring at the chair apprehensively, but eventually started forward, slowly turning his back to Loki and sitting down. It was clear that he was uncomfortable sitting with his back to another person, so exposed and vulnerable, but Loki supposed his desire to get his memories back outweighed his trepidations. Bucky shuddered as Loki laid his long, pale fingers on his temples to tip his head backwards, his fingers glowing with a white light. Bucky's hands were clenched on the arms of the chair, his eyes screwed shut. Loki absent-mindedly noticed that the metal hand, although making unpleasant screeching noises as if damaged, was actually leaving dents in the chair. Turning his mind back to the task at hand, Loki set about surveying the damage in Barnes' head.

'Were you given electroshock therapy, Barnes?' he asked, frowning.

'…I…I don't know," Bucky answered, gasping. 'Why?'

'It would explain the gaps in your memory, and the retrograde amnesia after the therapy would explain why you don't remember having it done to you. Plus there's extensive damage to parts of your brain,' Loki answered. 'Consistent with prolonged exposure to high voltage electric shocks.'

He didn't mention that he knew this from extensive experience of fighting Thor. That damn hammer gave some terrible shocks, but with an Asgardian healing factor, the damage didn't last long. It tended to leave some incredibly unpleasant headaches, though.

A human like Barnes, though, despite having the ability to heal faster, would not be able to recover to the same degree as an Asgardian, particularly if the shocks to his brain were targeted at the same areas of the brain, and were frequent and regular. No wonder it had resulted in such substantial memory loss and personality changes.

Grimacing, Loki continued to assess the damage, as his subject sat in front of him, still staring at the ceiling, his hands and teeth clenched tight.

* * *

'Brother?' Thor called, knocking on Loki's bedroom door the next morning. 'Are you well? You did not come to breakfast.'

A groggy moan issued from within the room, and Thor carefully pushed the door open. The electronic blinds on the windows were fully closed, so the room was still in total darkness. Loki was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, the heels of his hands ground into his eye sockets to block the light from the doorway.

'Shut the door,' Loki moaned, rolling onto his side to face the opposite wall.

Thor stepped in, pushing the door partially shut behind him, although a bright shaft of light still illuminated the nearest corner of the room. He walked towards his brother, trying to keep his footsteps quieter than usual, and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

'You were not at breakfast, and I did not see you around the tower,' Thor continued, dutifully keeping his voice low. 'And when I asked JARVIS where you were, he told me you were still in your room, and that you had not moved all night. I was worried, brother, it is unlike you to sleep all morning.'

Loki smiled wearily, still facing away from Thor. At least his spells had fooled JARVIS.

'I'm fine, Thor,' he replied, rolling onto his back and heaving himself into a sitting position, rubbing his forehead with his palm. 'I told you I was tired. I feel perfectly fine, now.'

'There is nothing wrong?' Thor persisted.

'Absolutely nothing.'

When Thor continued to look skeptical, Loki heaved a long-suffering sigh. 'And yes, I'm hungry,' he added. 'Is there any food left?'

Thor grinned, just as Loki knew he would. 'Of course, Loki, I saved you some.'

Loki blinked. It was ridiculous, really – after everything he'd done to Thor over the years, and all his crimes, the big oaf still tried to look after him. Loki tried hard to ignore the little part of his brain that was suddenly feeling guilty and merely nodded in thanks, following Thor towards the door.

Five minutes later, Loki was sitting alone in the kitchen with a bowl of fruit. After making sure (again) that Loki was truly all right, Thor had gone down to the training levels of the tower to spar with Steve. They had discovered that if Thor was not allowed to use Mjolnir or wear his armour, and Steve _was_ allowed to use his shield, then the two were well matched enough to make it a decent fight. Loki, enjoying the silence (and the fruit), considered the events of the previous night as he ate.

All things considered, it had gone rather well. He'd managed to get back into the tower undetected at 5:30am, and had remembered to deactivate the spells in his room before collapsing onto the bed. And then there had been Barnes himself. Loki was fascinated by the extent of the damage to Barnes's mind, and had been able to identify certain areas that had been affected the most. In addition to that, though, Barnes's metal arm and his obviously superhuman speed, strength and healing abilities were a point of interest – he was similar to the Captain in many ways, but unfortunately, Barnes had been unable to tell him exactly how he had come by those abilities. Eventually, Loki had been able to inform Barnes that he had made some good headway in assessing the damage, and had requested that they meet again, so that he could continue with his 'research.'

'_And then you could fix me?'_ Barnes had asked.

'_And then I could try,' _Loki had replied. And although clearly uncomfortable, Barnes had agreed to meet him again at several arranged times over the next few weeks.

Loki smiled, chasing the final evasive blueberry around the bowl with his spoon. It really was nice to have a project again.

And if his research happened to make it possible to fix the damage done to Barnes's brain, well, he supposed that wouldn't be such a bad thing for him to attempt.

If there was a possibility that he could give the Captain his best friend back, he could definitely exchange that gift for some kind of reward. Increased freedoms. Increased privileges. It _benefited _him to help Barnes, Loki thought to himself, finally capturing the last blueberry.

'_Of course, the alternative is that you're actually doing something selfless for someone else's benefit,' _said a sly voice in the back of his mind.

Loki ignored it, deliberately tossed his dirty bowl in the sink so that someone else would have to deal with it, and stalked out of the room.

Loki met with Barnes four times over the next two weeks, sneaking out using the same method as before. There had been one close shave when Barton and Romanoff had still been watching television in the main living area as Loki sneaked past, and for one horrific moment he thought they might have heard his footsteps – but both of them seemed to decide that the noise had merely come from the television and continued to take turns at trying to pickpocket the TV remote from each other as they watched. Loki had been able to slip past and, once again, walked through the dark streets to the riverside warehouse, where Barnes, as always, was waiting in the shadows.

Loki was getting close now. He was sure of it. Although the process would have gone a lot faster if he had been permitted to open Barnes' skull and look directly at his brain, he had managed to locate what appeared to be all of the damaged areas. The most extensive trauma, as expected, was in the memory, emotion and personality centres of the brain, and it had been done with remarkable precision. Whoever had done this had done a very good job of taking away everything that had made Barnes who he was, replacing him with an emotionless machine that only existed to follow orders. On the one hand, Loki felt a good deal of sympathy for Barnes and the way in which his identity had been stolen from him, but on the other hand, it was hard not to marvel at the skill with which it had been done.

_What I could do with an army of men like him,_ Loki thought, staring down at the man in front of him. His thoughts were interrupted by Barnes violently shaking his head from side to side to dislodge Loki's fingers from his temples, and then standing to look directly into the God's eyes.

'Four weeks, now,' Bucky said, in what was little more than a harsh whisper, amplified by the empty room. 'Can you fix me or not?'

Loki paused, his immediate response being to lie and tell Barnes that yes, of course he could. But the man was staring at him, unblinking and intense, and Loki suddenly found that he actually didn't want to lie. The man before him had been lied to and manipulated for over 60 years. Nowhere near as long as Loki had been lied to and manipulated, of course, but… No. That was irrelevant. After all those years, Barnes deserved the truth.

'I don't know,' Loki answered slowly. 'Brain cells do not naturally regenerate. If the damage were to one of your other organs, I could stimulate cell regeneration and the organ would soon be as good as new. But the brain...I could repair the physical damage, yes, but there would be no guarantee that it would return your memories, or the lost parts of your old personality.'

Bucky still didn't blink, just kept his eyes fixed on Loki's.

'Even if your memories did return,' Loki continued, 'it most likely would be _all_ of your memories. Not just the good ones. That means the torture, your fall from that train, the experiments, the brainwashing, your assassinations, your attempts to kill Rogers. You may end up remembering _everything. _There's a good chance that that could drive you insane.'

Bucky was silent.

'Your choice, Barnes,' Loki said quietly.

Bucky dropped his gaze to stare at the filthy floorboards. His face, as usual, was expressionless, but the ice-blue eyes were pained. The soldier screwed his eyes shut, and then finally shook his head once, with an air of resignation.

'Do it,' he said, so quietly that it was almost inaudible. He opened his eyes, raising his head to meet Loki's gaze again. 'I'll take the risk.'

"Are you sure?" Loki asked, much more gently than was characteristic for him.

'I want my mind back,' Bucky replied, simply.

Loki studied him carefully, a rare, tiny spark of respect flaring in his chest. 'And if it doesn't work? If you go insane, or are left as a mindless shell?'

Bucky stared back evenly. 'Then you kill me.'

Loki tilted his head to the side, surveying the soldier. Then he smiled.

'Hmm. Very well, then. Same time next week, Mr. Barnes.'

* * *

The next Saturday night, Loki was sitting alone in the kitchen, picking at a plate of sushi and thinking about Barnes's brain, when the peaceful atmosphere was suddenly shattered. It appeared that the Avengers had seemingly all gotten hungry at the same time and had assembled in the dining area to find food. Loki, not enjoying the way the kitchen had suddenly become so crowded, decided to finish his dinner and leave.

'You got some kind of sleeping sickness?' Clint asked, as Loki got up from the table. 'Every other night, it's like you're getting tired at 8 o' clock and going to bed early. What's up with that?'

'So you _do_ care, Barton. I'm touched,' Loki replied snarkily, tossing his plate into the sink. It shattered satisfyingly against one of the taps.

'He's basically a teenager, remember,' Tony replied to Clint. 'Their sleeping patterns are different, y'know?'

Then he caught sight of the look Loki was giving him.

'Whoa. If looks could kill…' he muttered, staring down at his steak.

'If looks could kill, you'd already be dead 50 times over from all the nicknames you give everyone,' Steve responded with a small grin.

'I should leave and find a new team that actually appreciates my wit,' Tony replied. 'You guys don't seem to realize the amount of thought and consideration that goes into the formation of nicknames.'

'Right. Because "Katniss"was such an obscure and intellectual choice of nickname for an archer,' Clint snorted.

'It beats "The Star Spangled Ballerina," Clint,' Steve pointed out.

'As fascinating as this conversation is…' Loki muttered, slipping silently out of the door and making his way back to his bedroom.

The kitchen was quiet for a while, filled only with the sounds of eating and digging through cupboards, until Clint felt he had so say something.

'Seriously, though. Most nights now, he's the first of us to go to bed, and he's the last to wake up the next day. It's not like him. What the hell is actually going on?'

'Could he be ill, Thor?' Steve asked.

'I have enquired after Loki's wellbeing,' Thor replied, his brow furrowed in worry. 'He assured me he was in perfect health. And he seems fine. But of course, if something were wrong, it would not be unlike him to keep it hidden from me.'

'But if he's not ill, then the alternative is that he's up to something,' Natasha frowned. She suddenly raised her voice, looking towards the ceiling. 'JARVIS, where's Loki now?'

'_Mr. Laufeyson is currently in his bedroom, Agent Romanoff_,' came the reply.

'Has he left the building?' Clint added.

'_My sensors have not detected Mr. Laufeyson exiting the building at any point since the authorised visit to Washington_.'

'And the sensors and bracelets are all working?' Tony asked his AI, food forgotten.

'_The sensors are functioning perfectly, sir._'

So all those times he's gone to bed early and woken up late, he really has just been asleep?' Steve asked, confusion evident on his face.

'_It would appear so, Captain.'_

'Maybe he is ill, then,' Bruce said quietly. 'JARVIS, can you scan his vitals?'

'_I am unable to run all necessary tests while Mr. Laufeyson is in his bedroom without alerting him to the fact that he is being tested. However, I can determine that skin temperature and heart rate, while respectively much colder and much slower than the average, are well within normal healthy parameters for Mr. Laufeyson.'_

'So he's healthy,' Clint said, pinching the bridge of his nose in confusion. 'There _has_ to be a reason for this, though.'

'If JARVIS says he's not leaving the building or using any large amounts of magic, what could he possibly be doing, then?' Steve asked, looking at Tony.

The inventor's face was as grim and impassive as that of the mask on his suit. 'JARVIS…I want you to activate the motion sensors and cameras outside the elevator and the entrances to the stairwell on all floors. Also in the lobby and in the corridor outside Loki's room. Forget the sensors, if he's able to fool them they're irrelevant. Just alert us, quietly, if anyone trips the motion sensors or opens any of the doors to the stairwell, okay?'

'_As you wish, sir.'_

Tony dropped his head to look back down at the table silently.

'You really think Loki could have worked out how to trick JARVIS?' Bruce asked, walking over to sit beside his friend.

'I hope not,' Tony replied. 'But we have to be sure. Barton's right, this behavior isn't normal. And we have to know if he's able to leave the building. If he is, he must be taking the stairs, a record's kept of when the elevator's called.'

Thor was leaning silently on the counter, his face anxious and desperate. Steve spotted his expression and walked over to lean on the counter beside him, clasping the God's massive shoulder reassuringly.

'This is just to be safe, Thor,' he said. 'He might not be doing anything wrong. We just need to know for sure.'

Thor didn't look at him, just gave a tiny nod as he continued to stare at the floor.

'Everyone act normally, then,' Natasha said finally. 'But be ready to suit up and go immediately if it turns out Loki's leaving the tower.'

Steve stared at Thor, opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it and quietly moved away and out of the door. Bruce, Clint and Natasha followed. Eventually only Thor and Tony were left in the kitchen, both of them staring at the floor in silence. Worry and disappointment etched deep lines into both of their faces.

Five hours later, each member of the team, sitting alert in their respective bedrooms, was startled by a soft announcement from JARVIS's ceiling speakers.

'_Motion sensors indicate movement in the corridor outside Mr. Laufeyson's bedroom, and at the door to the stairwell.'_

'Shit,' Tony breathed, dashing along the corridor and into the main living area, where Steve, Clint, Natasha and Thor were already waiting, dressed for battle. Steve and the two assassins were standing grimly, holding and checking over their weapons, but Thor was sitting dejectedly on the floor, Mjolnir lying carelessly a few feet away from him. Tony looked at him sadly as he sprinted to get his suit on.

'JARVIS! Where's Loki now?' he called, as the mechanical arms on the balcony whirred into life and began to encase him in his armor.

'_Mr Laufeyson is in his bedroom, sir.'_

Tony frowned in confusion as the mask of the suit snapped down over his face.

The faces of the others in the room mirrored his own. Everyone except Thor.

'Magic, Tony,' Thor said dully. 'He must have created a double of himself to fool us. It's a speciality of his,' he added bitterly, as Bruce blearily wandered into the room, wearing a pair of smart black suit pants and a scruffy pyjama t-shirt.

'_Motion sensors detect movement in the lobby, sir,' _JARVIS piped up.

'Right, he's leaving,' Steve said, snapping into military mode. 'Thor, you can fly, so follow him, quietly. Don't let him see you. After we've determined which direction he's going, Tony, you follow Thor, but not too closely, or Loki will see the light trails from your suit. Don't engage him, just keep us posted on where he is and make sure he doesn't escape. Dr. Banner, Clint, Nat and I will collect Loki's shackles and gag, get down to the garage level, pick up an armored transport vehicle and meet you at wherever it is that Loki's going. Understood?'

Thor just picked up his hammer, walked onto the balcony without a word, spun Mjolnir in a circle and took off to land on the building opposite, silently following the shadowy figure on the sidewalk. Steve nodded at Tony and quickly jogged out of the room towards the elevator, followed by Clint and Natasha. Bruce trudged after them wearily, stopping at the door to shoot a sympathetic glance back at Tony before slipping out into the shadowy corridor.

Tony walked out onto the balcony again, the heavy metal boots of the Iron Man suit making a dull _clonk_ noise with each step.

He should have known. All that talk about being a good man. Loki was a god of chaos and _lies_. Of course he should have expected this. Tony cursed himself inwardly. He'd thought Loki was actually trying to change. Thor had been saying that Loki was acting more like he had been when they were younger and still best friends, and had been thanking Tony incessantly for giving his brother a chance.

And now it seemed that Loki had just been using their increased trust in him to sneak out and do god-knows-what. They'd trusted him enough to bring him within a mile of the _President._

Tony grimaced, anger and hurt bubbling up in his chest. He couldn't even imagine what Thor was feeling right now.

_To think they call me a genius,_ he thought bitterly, as he slowly rose into the air and flew as inconspicuously as possible after Thor and Loki.

* * *

Loki reached into the inside pocket of his Midgardian-style jacket as he walked, pulling out a pocket watch. 2:47am. He'd made good time again. Replacing the watch, he turned left onto the waterfront and continued along the river towards the warehouses, glancing back down the empty street behind him. Satisfied that he was alone, he kept walking until he saw the silhouette of his current project waiting by the water, a combination of streetlight and moonlight glinting off the clenched metal fist that rested on the railings at the water's edge.

'Ready, Barnes?' Loki asked, as he reached the soldier.

Bucky gave a silent, singular nod, turning to follow Loki into the warehouse.

As they walked up the stairs to the large, open room on the second floor, Loki glanced at Bucky for any sign of trepidation or emotion regarding what was about to happen, but the assassin's face was utterly devoid of expression. He walked into the center of the room and sat in the usual chair without even being prompted, tipping his head back and then becoming utterly still. Loki regarded him for a moment, admiring the other man's resolve, before walking over to stand behind him.

'Last chance to back out, Barnes,' Loki said, his voice soft and dangerous as he looked down at the man in the chair.

'Just do it,' came the reply, through gritted teeth.

A tiny smile curved the corner of the God's mouth, and his fingers began to glow a brilliant white. The light seemed to be emitting from his bones, so bright that the flesh and skin of his fingers became translucent. Leaning forwards, Loki moved his hands to the sides of Bucky's head, the assassin screwing his eyes shut to shield them from the dazzlingly bright light. Loki was just about to press his fingers to Bucky's temples when a dull '_clonk_' noise sounded from the sidewalk outside, followed by the quiet purring of a car engine further along the riverfront. Bucky immediately shot bolt upright, head snapping towards the windows like a startled animal.

Loki dropped his hands to his sides, straightening up again.

'Stay here, Barnes,' he murmured, slinking down the stairs to stand beside the front door of the warehouse. Peering through the broken windows in the top of the door, he scanned the area in front of the building, but saw nothing.

'Is everyone in position?' Steve whispered over the comms unit. He was crouched at the far corner of the warehouse, peering around the corner to look at the front door of the building. Bruce was standing behind him, still looking exhausted and reluctant. Clint was about 150 feet past them, further along the riverfront, an arrow aimed at the entrance. Natasha was positioned at the opposite corner, on the other side of the door.

Tony and Thor, having followed Loki from a distance, were both standing on the roof, Thor anxiously fiddling with the leather strap on Mjolnir's handle.

'I'm sorry, big guy,' Tony said to him quietly, his voice tinny and distorted through the metal mask of the suit. Thor looked at him miserably, then blinked slowly and turned his head away to look down at the entrance again.

'You're sure this is the right warehouse?' Steve whispered over the comms unit.

'JARVIS identified Loki's unique energy signature as coming from inside this building,' Tony replied despondently. 'The warehouse is saturated in it. He's definitely been doing magic in this building, and he's been doing it for a while.'

There was complete radio silence for a few seconds until finally Steve sighed.

'So he _has_ been escaping and doing magic behind our backs, then. We have to take him down, whatever he's been doing could be danger –'

He broke off as the door of the warehouse slowly slid open, and a raven haired-head tentatively peered out, looking up and down the riverfront.

* * *

Loki gently pushed the door to the side, poking his head out into the cold night air and looking from side to side. Seeing nothing, he stepped out further, pulling a long, faintly glowing dagger from inside his jacket. Holding the knife with his right hand and conjuring a ball of light with his left to use as a torch, he crept along the side of the building, sticking to the shadows. Unable to distinguish anything past the floodlight on the waterfront, Loki slowly drew his left hand back and then thrust it forward in an arc to hurl the ball of light into the area of darkness between this warehouse and the next. What he wasn't expecting, however, was the arrow that immediately shot out of the darkness at his head. Loki only just got his hand up in time to catch it, instinctively hurling the dagger in his other hand past the corner of the warehouse and back into the shadows, where there was a sudden cry of pain. Glancing down frantically at the arrow in his hand, he recognised it as one of Barton's.

_Oh, no._

'Wait!' Loki called, but before he could say anything else, there was a loud gunshot and a sudden pain in the back of his shoulder, and a deafening, animalistic roar sounded from the corner of the warehouse. The Hulk emerged from the shadows, snorting in rage, Loki's dagger stuck in his upper arm.

'Wait,' Loki said, trying to keep his voice soft and unthreatening as he backed away.

'That was a reflex, I'm sorry. I don't want to fight you.' Behind the Hulk, he could just make out Barton and Rogers, illuminated by the glowing orb he had thrown into the shadows. Agent Romanoff was most likely behind him with a large gun, if the pain in the back of his shoulder was any indication. No sign of Stark or Thor, though.

'Let me explain,' Loki called to Rogers, still being backed up against the wall of the warehouse. 'I was helping –'

He was cut off, however, by the giant green hand that closed around his neck, lifting him bodily off the ground and pinning him against the wall of the warehouse. Loki choked, swatting at the hand, but he didn't dare use any spells or reach for his daggers for fear of making the situation worse.

Through the lack of air, Loki was dimly aware of Thor leaping from somewhere above him and landing on the sidewalk, before barreling at full speed into the Hulk and knocking him aside. Loki fell heavily to the ground, gasping for air and coughing violently.

'He's had enough,' he heard Thor saying pleadingly. 'Please.'

Loki tipped his head to the side as he lay on the ground, just far enough to see Thor standing between him and the Hulk, who was crouched like an ape and baring his teeth. Slowly, the Hulk turned his head to the side, raising one massive hand to yank Loki's dagger out of his arm. He brushed at the wound as if it were a vaguely annoying papercut, and after a few seconds, began to shrink back to his normal size.

The edges of Loki's vision had gone dark and fuzzy, but he could see the Captain approaching him to put the reinforced Asgardian handcuffs back on him, as Thor turned away from Banner and crouched down to slip the hateful, familiar gag that prevented verbal spellwork back over his mouth.

'Not the gag,' Loki coughed. 'Let me explain.'

Thor's face was pained and sorrowful, but he was silent as he fitted the mask and locked it into place before gently pulling Loki to his feet.

Rogers, Barton and Romanoff were unreadable as Loki stared at them all. Romanoff's face suddenly became wary, however, as the sound of breaking glass came from the other side of the warehouse. A shadowy figure leapt from the second floor window, rolling as it hit the ground and vanishing into the shadows. Barton and Romanoff immediately turned and sprinted after the figure, disappearing into the night. Loki stared after them dolefully. If Barnes vanished completely, he had no way of proving that he hadn't been doing anything dangerous.

A heavy '_clonk_' behind him made him turn to see Stark walking towards him in the red and gold armor. The mask was still down, though, and the man was silent and unreadable. They waited in silence until the two assassins returned.

'Did you see who it was?' the Captain asked them.

Romanoff shook her head. 'Sorry, Steve. We lost him in the water.'

'Too fast to be human,' Barton added. 'Nat managed to shoot him a couple of times in the arm, but he just kept running.'

Rogers nodded. 'For now, let's just get Loki back to the tower and figure out what we're going to tell Fury.'

'We will meet you back at the tower,' Thor said, his voice anguished, as he wrapped a massive arm around Loki's chest and, spinning Mjolnir, took off into the cold night air.

* * *

That afternoon, the team was still sitting in the living area of the tower, discussing the previous night's events. Arguments had broken out over many things, but about one thing, they were unanimous – no one wanted to be the one to tell Fury. Tony and Thor were still both uncharacteristically quiet.

'I honestly thought he was doing better,' Steve said quietly.

'Me too,' said Natasha, staring at Loki's painting of New York, which was now hanging on the wall. She'd been staring at it for almost an hour.

'Do we even know that he was doing anything particularly dangerous?' Bruce asked. He was still wearing the dress pants from the fight that morning. Thanks to Loki's previous enchantments, they were grubby but still completely intact after he'd shrunk back to his normal size. His shirt, unfortunately, had been utterly shredded.

'He threw a knife into your arm,' Clint responded dully.

'And Tony frequently stabs me with pointy objects,' Bruce replied. 'The point is, I was standing in the shadows, and it looked quite a lot like he threw it instinctively after that arrow came flying at him.'

'So now it's my fault?' Clint said defensively.

'I'm not saying that,' Bruce replied, clenching his eyes shut in an effort to stay calm. 'I just mean, do we have _proof_ that at any point he deliberately tried to hurt anyone?'

There was silence. Everyone turned to look at the screen over the fireplace, which showed the live feed from the containment levels. Loki was back in the cage, an exact copy of the one on the Helicarrier, but the God's pose was drastically different to the way he had been standing all those months ago. There were no power stances, no intimidating glares or mocking grins. He was still cuffed and gagged, and was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall of the cage, his legs outstretched. His eyes were closed, and a huge purple bruise had developed around the pale column of his neck, although it was already starting to fade. He looked utterly exhausted.

'You have to admit it's suspicious, though,' Natasha continued. 'The sneaking out, hiding things from us, the heavy-duty magic and those meetings with whoever that shadowy guy in the hoodie was last night. Because he definitely wasn't human.'

'Didn't Loki said something about "helping" someone, before The Other Guy cut him off?' Bruce asked.

'That's not necessarily a good thing,' Steve replied wearily. 'Not if he was helping someone bad.'

'But whatever he was saying, it was intended as a defence,' Bruce continued. 'He was trying to explain why we _shouldn't_ attack him.'

'Loki. Norse God of _Lies_,' Clint reminded him. 'We all know by now that self-preservation is his thing. He'd tell us anything if it meant he wouldn't get punished.'

JARVIS's voice suddenly sounded throughout the room. _'Sir, a man matching the description of a registered enemy of the Avengers is in the lobby.'_

'Another one?' Tony groaned. 'I can't deal with another fight right now. Pull up the feeds.'

The image of Loki on the screen was compressed into a corner, replaced by an image of a man with long, scruffy dark hair and a metal arm, standing in the lobby and staring up intently at the security camera, waiting to be spotted.

'Who the hell-' Tony started, only to realize that Steve, Clint and Natasha had immediately barreled out of the room, Clint snatching up his bow first. Tony turned back to Steve and Bruce.

'I guess they know him,' he said, sighing as he went to put on his armor again and follow the others downstairs.

* * *

Natasha was first out of the elevator, rolling to the side and immediately pointing two handguns directly at the Winter Soldier's forehead. Clint followed suit, aiming an arrow at his heart. Steve approached more slowly, his shield held loosely by his side.

'Bucky?' he asked quietly. The assassin was silent, just staring back at him as Tony, Thor and Bruce ran in from the other side of the room, using the main doors to the building.

'Anyone planning to tell us who the hell this guy is?' yelled Tony, voice distorted and metallic through the suit.

'He's my friend,' Steve replied, at the same time as Natasha and Clint answered 'he's a HYDRA assassin.'

'HYDRA assassin?' Tony repeated in disbelief, staring at Steve. 'You made friends with a HYDRA assassin?'

'He was my best friend before HYDRA experimented on him and brainwashed him,' Steve replied, but his voice was taut with suppressed rage. Tony, for once, decided to shut up.

'Regardless of who he was before, Steve, he's now standing in our lobby and staring at us in a really creepy way,' Natasha told him, both guns still trained on Bucky's head. 'Why are you here?' she called out.

'You took…Loki.' Bucky grated. 'This morning.'

'You are the one who ran from the building?' Thor asked, moving along the wall into Bucky's line of vision. The soldier nodded, his dark hair casting his eye sockets into shadow as he moved his head.

'So Loki was having secret meetings with the guy who shot 'Tasha through the stomach,' Clint muttered. 'That's reassuring.'

Natasha didn't respond, or even give any indication that she'd heard.

'He was helping me remember,' Bucky continued, ignoring the archer. 'About before.'

'You remember?' Steve asked urgently, his shield dropping even further to the side as he took a tentative step forwards.

'Fragments,' came the response. 'Loki…he was going to try and recover the rest.'

'Why?' Natasha and Clint asked in unison.

Bucky didn't answer, just stared at them, before shaking his head and lifting his right shoulder in a tiny shrug. The cybernetic left arm remained still, and Steve suddenly realised that it hadn't moved at all since they'd been speaking.

'I think it'd be best,' Bruce said slowly, 'if we actually went and asked Loki what's been going on.'

Steve nodded, not taking his eyes off Bucky. 'Are you…okay to come with us while we talk to him?' he asked.

Bucky didn't reply, but simply moved towards Steve and waited. Steve turned, walking slowly into the elevator, and a smile flitted over his face as he turned and saw Bucky silently following him in. As Bucky turned around to face the front of the elevator, Steve suddenly saw the two bullet holes in the top of the cybernetic arm.

_Well, that explained why the arm wasn't moving._

'You're trusting him?' Natasha asked quietly, finally lowering the guns. It wasn't an accusatory remark, just an enquiry.

Steve stared back at her and slowly nodded. 'I have to, Nat. If he's finally remembering anything, I have to help him.'

Natasha observed the two men in the elevator silently, before placing both handguns in the holsters strapped to her thighs. 'I'm trusting you, Steve, not him. Anything suspicious or dangerous from him, and I'm shooting to kill.'

Steve nodded solemnly, understanding. Bucky simply stared wordlessly at Natasha, showing no response to what she'd said.

Clint's arrow was still trained on Bucky's heart, but he cast a sideways glance at Natasha. Seeing her expression, he sighed heavily, and slowly relaxed the bowstring, lowering the arrow to point at the floor. 'And I'm trusting you, here, 'Tasha.'

Natasha cast him a tight half-smile before looking back at Steve.

'We'll get the next one,' she told him. 'He may be your best friend, but I still don't feel like I want to be shut in a metal can with him.'

'Understandable,' Steve replied, shooting her a grateful look as the doors slid shut.

I can't believe that we still have Loki cuffed in a cage downstairs, and now we've invited a psychotic Nazi version of Robocop into the tower,' Tony said, raising the mask on his suit as he clomped over to stand beside the assassins. 'Fury would have a fit.'

'For now, I vote that we don't tell him,' Clint sighed, as they stepped into the newly vacant elevator, Thor squeezing in beside them. 'You coming, Bruce?' he called to the one remaining figure still standing in the lobby.

'I'll take the stairs,' Bruce sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. After the amount of stress we've had in the last 24 hours, standing in a crowded elevator might not end well for me. Or anyone who's in the elevator with me. Or the elevator itself.'

Tony coughed slightly. 'Good call, big guy,' he responded, punching the button for the containment levels with a metal-gloved finger. 'See you down there. Think happy thoughts.'

After Tony had realized that he was still wearing his metal suit, he had split from the rest of the group to go and remove it as quickly as possible before hurrying back to the containment area door. He was surprised to see that the others – plus one silent Soviet cyborg – were waiting for him in the corridor.

'Hey, thanks,' he called, jogging towards them.

'No problem,' Steve replied, before pushing the door open. He entered first, approaching the large cylindrical cage at the back of the room, the others trooping in after him to stand in a line in front of the cage. Bucky stayed back, lurking in the doorway, and Natasha and Clint both subtly turned to the side in order to keep him in their peripheral vision. They each kept a hand on the gun strapped to their legs in case he tried to make a run for it, but both of them glanced back at the cage briefly as its door slid open and Thor walked inside to remove the muzzle from his brother's mouth.

Loki didn't move, just flicked his eyes up at the group standing in front of him.

'This is becoming something of a pattern, isn't it?' He drawled, venom in his tone.

His eyes suddenly narrowed as he saw a flash of silver movement in the shadowy doorway behind them, then they widened in recognition. He smiled slightly, tipping his head back to lean on the wall of the cage.

'Good afternoon, Barnes. I must admit, I didn't expect to see you here. Especially not after what happened this morning.'

Bucky remained silent, but Loki hadn't expected an answer.

'We did not know that you were trying to help this man, brother,' Thor said, anxiously turning the muzzle over in his hands. Mjolnir was lying on the floor outside the cage. 'Why did you keep it a secret from us?'

'Because he begged me not to tell you,' Loki spat coldly. 'Not until he was sure of who he was. And in my efforts to be _better_,' he continued, looking pointedly at Tony, 'I decided to acquiesce to his wishes as I attempted to heal him.'

'You had to realize that it would look suspicious if you were caught, brother,' Thor said, but his tone was guilty. He lowered himself onto the floor a few feet away from Loki, sitting cross-legged with his shoulders hunched, and suddenly looked a lot smaller.

'Of course I _knew_!' Loki snapped. 'In all the years you have known me, Thor, how often have I done things without contemplating the possible outcomes of my actions first?'

'Rarely,' Thor replied, staring at the floor.

'I merely hoped that if I was caught at any point, I would at least be given more than two seconds to explain myself before being gagged and cuffed again. From hearing the good captain talk,' he continued, shifting his gaze to Steve's face, 'it would be easy to get the impression that this country – and your _team_ – operated on an "innocent until proven guilty" system, but that doesn't seem to be the case, does it?'

'You've kind of already been proven guilty…' Clint muttered, still dividing his attention equally between the figure in the cage and the figure lurking in the doorway.

'Guilty of a _different_ crime,' Thor said, raising his voice as he looked at the archer. 'And the reason he is even _here_ is because he is being punished for those crimes. It does not mean that we should automatically interpret his every action as malevolent.'

A hint of surprise flitted across Loki's face.

'Loki is an agent of chaos,' Thor continued evenly. 'And chaos is a neutral force. Loki was always capable of terrible and harmful deeds, yes, but he was always equally capable of kind ones. It is only in recent years that the balance was upset so severely.'

The room was silent as Thor spoke. Loki was now just staring at him.

'I am glad that you seem to be more like your old self, brother,' Thor said, turning to him.

'That _old self_ seemed to spend all his time getting you out of trouble and being either ignored or ridiculed by your friends,' Loki replied quietly, his voice even.

'We took you for granted,' Thor nodded solemnly. 'But I am not my old self either. And I am sorry for not listening to you.'

Loki was staring at his cuffed hands as they rested in his lap, for once unsure how to respond.

'I'm sorry too,' Steve said, blinking as Loki's head snapped up to stare at him.

'You've been doing really well recently,' Steve continued. 'And even if what you were doing _did _look suspicious, we should have listened to you before we cuffed you and threw you in here. And I'm sorry.'

He walked into the cell, crouching down to unlock the handcuffs. Clint stared at Loki for a few seconds, then finally rolled his eyes and turned to focus the majority of his attention on the Winter Soldier lingering in the doorway. Bruce, now that the tension in the room had dissipated a little, was looking considerably more relaxed. He glanced at Tony, who was standing beside him but the inventor's head was cocked to one side, his face pensive, and he didn't take his eyes off the three figures in the cage.

Steve had removed the Asgardian handcuffs and Loki was now standing, rolling his shoulders, and flexing his fingers as he felt his magic return, but he still looked bitter.

'And hey, thank you,' Steve said, tossing the cuffs to the floor, where they skidded along until they hit the opposite side of the cage. Loki turned his head to survey the Captain coolly.

'For?' He replied, keeping his tone aloof.

'For trying to help give Bucky his mind back. You had nothing to gain, you didn't have to do it.' Steve replied simply.

Loki arched an eyebrow. 'Yes, I never asked, why do you call him "_Bucky_?"

'Childhood nickname. It's short for "Buchanan", that's his middle name,' Steve replied, glancing back at the figure in the doorway, unable to suppress a smile. 'And don't change the subject. You had nothing to gain from helping him, so why did you do it? Not that I'm not grateful – I'm not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything – but I'm just confused. Why do it?'

"I was fascinated by the work done to his brain," Loki replied, a carefully constructed tone of boredom saturating his words. "It was a very extensive example of brainwashing and reprogramming, and made especially impressive when you consider the fact that it was primarily done with fairly basic and primitive Midgardian technology. Promising to try and return Barnes's mind to him worked as an incentive for him to let me study his brain first. If you were hoping for a glimpse of some long-dormant spark of altruism or selflessness within me, Captain, then I'm sorry to have to disappoint you."

Steve nodded sceptically. 'Right. So carefully examining his mind over several weeks so that it wouldn't hurt him – that was easier than just cutting his head open, studying his brain and then throwing him in the river?'

Loki narrowed his eyes at him.

'Well, whatever your motivations were, he recognised me.' Steve continued. 'He doesn't remember much yet but he'll get there. I know he will. I can't thank you enough.'

A wide smile splitting his face, he held his hand out to Loki. The god stared at it, his lip twisted in a noncommittal hint of a sneer, but Steve didn't drop his hand. After a few seconds, Loki flicked his eyes up to look at Steve's face. The soldier was steadily staring back at him, no trace of mocking in his eyes. There was only earnest gratitude. Hesitantly, Loki stretched out his own arm, bypassing Steve's hand and gripping his forearm above the wrist in the Asgardian fashion. Steve cottoned on quickly, tightly clasping Loki's own forearm. Behind Loki's back, Thor was beaming.

'Again, we're sorry for not listening to you,' Steve said with a smile. 'And I owe you one, ok?'

A slow smirk twisted the corner of Loki's mouth. 'I'll bear that in mind, Captain.'

Steve winced. 'Nothing dangerous. Or cruel.'

'…Fine.'

'….Or humiliating.'

Loki grimaced in annoyance. 'Fine. Nothing _TOO_ humiliating.'

'And now I'm kind of worried,' Steve said, as he began walking back towards the door.

'You fought _Nazis,_' Tony and Natasha called after him, in unison. Tony snapped his head towards her, pointing triumphantly.

'_Ha!_ Jinx.'

'Nazis were nothing compared to owing Loki an unspecified favor,' Steve called back, humour in his tone.

He stopped about five paces away from Bucky, who was still standing in the doorway, pausing to make sure Bucky was comfortable with him standing that close. And that he wouldn't suddenly lash out.

'You okay, Buck?' He asked, much more quietly.

Bucky looked at him in silence before turning his head to glance at Loki questioningly. He slowly raised his left arm, gesturing at the god, and then touched the shiny silver index finger to his left temple. His face was carefully blank, but the uncertain wideness of his eyes clearly articulated his meaning.

_Are you still going to fix me?_

Loki paused for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly and jerked his chin upwards in an imperious but casual nod, not meeting Bucky's eyes. He stared resolutely at the opposite wall, but eventually dragged his eyes back to look at the Winter Soldier. Bucky's face was as impassive as ever, his head cocked to one side as he stared back at the God. Steve smiled slightly awkwardly, nodding at Loki in quiet thanks again as he left the room. He took care not to look at Bucky as he walked past him, leaving Bucky the option of whether to follow him or not. _Not giving him orders had to be a positive step away from his life as a Hydra assassin_, he thought, as he walked steadily towards the elevator.

Bucky watched him go before turning back to face into the room. He inclined his head towards Loki, then coolly surveyed the rest of the room's occupants before turning on his heel and silently vanishing into the corridor after Steve.

'Chatty, isn't he?' Tony remarked drily, breaking the silence. 'Wish he'd let someone else get a word in, for once.'

'You're going to have to rename this tower, Stark," Natasha said wryly. "The New York Supervillain Rehabilitation Center" or something.'

'Yeah," Clint agreed. "Loki's mind-controlled me, that Barnes guy has shot 'Tasha… We're kind of amassing a collection of killers as pets. Maybe we should invite Justin Hammer to live with us too, Tony, then you could have your own personal villain living here too.'

'Nope, _he_ tried to kill me much more effectively.' Tony replied, pointing at Loki. 'He actually, _personally_ picked me up by the throat and threw me through a top-floor window. Personal murder attempt means I get joint custody, Legolas.' (At this point Thor just looked bemused, and Loki's expression was an odd combination of reluctant amusement and utter disdain.)

'Besides, you think Hammer's ever going to come within 50 miles of me ever again after what happened at my birthday party?' Tony continued.

Everyone was silent for a moment as they remembered the events of the party, before bursting into loud giggles. Bruce hadn't actually witnessed the events firsthand, of course, as he'd been asleep after accidentally hulking out, but Tony had shown him the CCTV footage. Loki also chuckled, despite himself. Thor's heartfelt defence of him, combined with Captain Rogers' unexpected apology and thanks had taken him by surprise, cutting through the intense feeling of bitterness that had followed his incarceration. The wonderful memory of Justin Hammer running away from Tony's house while clutching his crotch with both hands and screaming was also making it rather hard to cling onto the sense of anger.

Sensing that Loki's anger had abated somewhat, Thor tentatively patted his younger brother on the shoulder and gave him a warm, apologetic smile before moving towards the door. Experience had taught him that Loki's darker moods tended to pass more quickly when he was given space. Natasha and Clint followed him. Neither of them said anything to Loki, but Natasha gave him a tight-lipped, vaguely apologetic smile, while Clint just nodded at him.

Bruce approached Loki slowly, his shoulders hunched in the usual manner.

'Sorry for Hulk-smashing you…again,' he said quietly, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose from where they had slipped down. 'I mean, I'm not really sorry about the first time, you had that one coming…but you didn't deserve it this time round. That's a really good thing you did for Steve's friend.'

'I didn't-' Loki replied, but Bruce cut him off.

'No, no, you weren't doing it to help him, of course. Got it. I just want you to know, I'm sorry. You weren't hurting anyone. I only hulked out as a reflex – that dagger of yours hit me by mistake. It's upstairs, by the way, I put it on the coffee table. Anyway, The Other Guy beat you up again and you didn't deserve it this time.'

Loki's lips stretched in a thin smile. 'I've recovered from much worse, Dr. Banner. Might I say, though, how strange it is to see your alter ego in trousers that actually fit?'

'Oh yeah, since you enchanted all my pants to grow and shrink with me when I Hulk out, there haven't been nearly as many embarrassing incidents. It was a nightmare for a while every time I became person-sized again, what with all the media coverage around here. So thanks for that.'

'Thank Stark, he's the one who asked me to enchant them for you.' Loki replied.

Bruce sighed. 'Stop doing that.'

Loki frowned. 'Doing what?'

'Shrugging it off every time someone thanks you for something, or pretending that anything good you do is accidental. You're allowed to do nice things and be thanked for them. The universe isn't going to implode if you let yourself take credit for any good things that you do, is it? So, again, thank you for my pants.'

Loki narrowed his eyes down at the doctor, who was wearing an uncharacteristically wide smile.

'…You're welcome.'

Bruce, still smiling serenely, turned away, nodded at Tony and meandered out of the room to finally get some sleep.

Loki was still pondering Banner's words when he became aware of the final person in the room, who was wearing the most unbelievably smug, shit-eating smirk on his face.

'I think this is the longest I've ever known you not to speak, Stark,' he muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in grim anticipation. 'You've clearly been itching to say something since you walked in. Spit it out.'

'YOU'RE ACTUALLY TRYING, AREN'T YOU?!' Tony burst out. 'I mean, you've been behaving better than usual recently, but I didn't know whether that was you making an effort to be nicer or just because you'd, I don't know, switched to decaf or something. But _this_? With Barnes? Oooooh no. You were trying to fix his mind because you sympathized with him and it was A NICE THING TO DO.'

Loki just stared at him, looking utterly unimpressed. This look only became more pronounced when Tony started cackling gleefully.

'Stark, I told you, I was interested in-'

'In what was done to his brain, yeah. No, I believe you. You're kinda like me in that respect, you like taking things apart, seeing how they work. I get that. But don't for a _second_ pretend that that was the only factor in you deciding to help him, sunshine.'

Loki finally sighed heavily, as Tony bounded over to a metal table and sprang up to sit on it, folding his arms expectantly and swinging his legs back and forth like a gleeful toddler.

'Very well. At first I was just interested, as I said. But he said he was starting to get hints about who he really was, and that he'd been brainwashed into becoming a monster. A sharp tool, essentially, that could eventually be used to destroy anyone whom his controllers deemed unworthy of living. That rather… struck a chord.'

'Mm-hmm,' Tony replied. He'd stopped swinging his legs and now looked much more serious. 'So what Bruce was saying about you not letting yourself take credit for anything good?'

Loki cast his eyes down at the floor and then back up at the wall, not seeming to know how to answer.

'Hardly anyone on Asgard ever praised or thanked me for anything as I grew up, and that was when I was considered a prince. After everyone in your realm considers you a betrayer and a criminal, and on top of everything else you find out you're a monster, I think I rather gave up on the hope of ever being thanked for anything. Thor was always the one who got praised for his deeds, thanked for his heroic actions. I just tried to clean up his messes and repeatedly saved his skin while lurking in the shadows. Regardless of what I did, I was always cast in the role of liar, or trickster – after a while, I just decided to play the part properly.'  
Tony considered this for a moment, before hopping lightly off the table.

'Yeah, well, I doubt 'monster' is the phrase the Star-Spangled Ballerina would use to describe you right now. You just gave him his best friend back. The guy is what, ninety-something? Thought he was completely alone in the world. Then his childhood best friend shows up, trying to kill him, which has got to hurt. And then you, the supposed '_monster'_, finds his best friend, starts trying to give him his mind back, and suddenly there's a chance that Steve doesn't have to feel so alone any more. You're not a monster to him right now, Lokes – you're his goddamn fairy godmother.'

Loki was so absorbed in thought as they walked out of the door and towards the elevator that it took him a moment to register Tony's final words.

'Fairy Godmother?'

'Yeah, Midgardian fairytale reference. Watch Cinderella. You liked the Lion King, right? Hell, just have a Disney marathon.'

'Stark, the fact that you manage to qualify as a genius-level intellect when so little of what you say makes any sense is, quite frankly, astounding.'

'Everyone else understands me," Tony answered cheerfully, as they stepped into the elevator. "Maybe you're the one in possession of a lower-quality intellect.'

Loki scoffed._ 'Please_.'

'Don't be jealous of my genius.'

'My intellect is far greater than any found on Midgard.'

'Let's not start an intellect-measuring contest in the elevator. These things always escalate.'

'Oh, and Stark?'

'Yeah?'

Loki leaned in close, smiling pleasantly. 'If you ever call me _"Lokes" _again, I will be forced to hurl you though another top-floor window.'

'Ah. So if I want to avoid another defenestration incident, I have to veto that nickname?'

'Correct.'

'Damn. Never mind, I'll think of more.'

Loki groaned.

* * *

The tower was quiet for the rest of the day. Bruce had passed out, Loki sat on the sofa in front of the fire, reading, and Tony and Thor were down in the workshop. (Tony was trying to determine how long an iron man suit could be run without an arc reactor, purely by charging it with a massive amount of electricity. Thor had consequently been enlisted to provide that massive amount of electricity.) Clint and Natasha sat at the bar, conversing in quiet voices as they kept an eye on the final two figures in the room, who were sitting on the sofa at a right angle to Loki's.

Steve was sitting closest to the fire, Bucky sitting stiffly at the other end, right against the armrest. Steve faced forward as he spoke, not looking directly at Bucky, so as not to make Bucky feel like he was under any pressure, but the assassin still looked tense.

'So…Loki can help you remember properly now?' Steve asked, keeping his voice light.

'He says maybe.' Bucky replied tersely. Steve looked at the occupant of the opposite sofa quizzically.

'I can repair the physical damage to his brain, yes,' Loki replied, not looking up from his book, 'but there's no guarantee that it would return all of his memories. Or it could mean he remembers absolutely everything. Or it could mean that he remembers some things perfectly but there are massive gaps in other areas. There's no way to be sure.'

'And…you're sure you want to go through with this?' Steve asked, turning back to Bucky. His voice was steady for the most part, but there was an underlying tremor that betrayed his worry.

His wide-eyed stare was met with another of intense fierce determination. For the first time since he'd been in the building, Bucky looked absolutely sure of himself.

'Steve.' He said quietly. 'I know you're Steve. I know you were my friend. I had a _friend_. I need those memories back. _They're _in my head. I want them out.'

Steve nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. 'Okay, Buck.'

He turned back to the god that was lounging on the other sofa. 'So when are you going to do this?'

'I need to get some rest first. Tomorrow morning should be fine. And if you want this to have the best possible chance of working, you should probably take off the electric shock bracelets. I've been thinking about how to improve the procedure, and I'll need to use some fairly high-powered spells. I was planning to use the rune bracelets I made to suppress the shocks, but removing them altogether would work better. You do _not _want me being electrocuted while I'm working on him.' Loki replied, getting gracefully to his feet and stretching, his book in one hand. Then he paused. 'It may actually help if you're present, Rogers. To give him a physical manifestation of what he's trying to remember and help keep him calm. And…well…if it doesn't work…whatever happens, you'll probably want to be there.' With that he took a long look at the fierce determination on Bucky's face before smiling slightly and leaving the room.

Bucky turned to Steve uncertainly. 'You don't have to be there, S...Steve. It might not even work.'

'Don't be stupid, Bucky,' Steve replied, staring at the flames in the fireplace. 'I told you, I'm with you to the end of the line.'

* * *

Loki got up early the next morning, picking up the pack of Sharpies and the dagger that Bruce had left on the coffee table for him and taking the elevator down to the laboratory levels. They were mainly unused at the moment. Bruce's work was primarily theoretical these days, and Tony favoured his workshop, so the labs were slightly musty, but they would be fine for his purpose. Loki dragged an examination table into the centre of a wide area in the corner of the room, placing a chair for himself at the head of the table. Then, taking out one of Tony's Sharpies, he pulled the lid off with his teeth and began to draw a large circle on the floor around the table, the lid of the pen still sticking out from between his teeth, and then began drawing a series of smaller shapes and lines within that circle. Clint and Natasha, fully armed, walked in ten minutes later, as Loki was starting to carefully inscribe a series of strange symbols and runes around the edge of the biggest circle.

'What's that?' Clint asked curiously.

'Healing circle,' Loki grunted back, the pen lid still sticking out from between his teeth. Clint couldn't help grinning at the sight. Loki's hair was falling in his eyes as he hunched over, cross-legged on the floor, and he was wearing a faded green Asgardian tunic and what looked like black jeans, slightly dusty from sitting on the floor. He didn't look like a thousand-year-old-god who'd blown up a city and killed people. He looked like an art student.

'Thought you'd be wearing the fancy armor and the goat horns,' Clint said, smirking as he jumped up to perch on the counter. Natasha was prowling around behind Loki, studying the circle with interest.

'The spell will require a great deal of energy and prolonged magic use, so I don't want to risk overheating, and it also means that I will not be able to move for a few hours,' Loki replied, shuffling around the circle to begin work on a different set of runes. 'It's prudent in these cases to dress lightly and comfortably.'

'Sharpies can be used for spellwork?' Natasha asked, one eyebrow arched in surprised amusement.

'Blood would be better. The pens will do for the majority of the circle and I'll reinforce certain runes with blood later to make them stronger,' Loki replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice at being questioned while he was working.

'Whose blood?' Clint asked, warning in his tone.

'_My_ blood, Barton, calm down,' Loki answered. 'Why are you two here?'

'We decided it was best to supervise just in case you decide to have a supervillain relapse when the shock bracelets come off, or if Barnes goes crazy and tries to kill us all,' Natasha answered lightly. 'Plus I think everyone's just interested.'

'Perfect.' Loki muttered in irritation, continuing with his work.

Over the next twenty minutes, Thor and Bruce joined them in the lab. Bruce's interest was immediately piqued by the markings on the floor, and he clambered up to sit on the counter to inspect them without getting in Loki's way.

'Right, Thor, I need you to take off the shock bracelets,' Loki commanded briskly as he finished inscribing the last rune and climbed to his feet, brushing off the dust and putting the pen lid back on the Sharpie. 'I have to add the blood now.'

'You need the bracelets off for that?' Bruce asked.

'If I want the blood to be imbued with magic when I use it, then yes,' Loki answered, scrutinising the circle. 'The bracelets are rather desensitized at this point, but I don't want to risk them shocking me during the procedure.'

Thor walked over to his brother, unlocking the bracelets and sliding them off.

'Now behave, Loki,' he said warningly, but there was warmth in his tone.

'When do I not?' Loki answered innocently, conjuring a dagger from thin air. Clint and Natasha tensed, but Loki only raised the dagger to make a small cut on the outside of the elbow on his left arm.

'Huh. I expected you to make the cut on the palm of your hand, or something,' Clint said in surprise, as Loki knelt down again to daub small amounts of blood on certain parts of the healing circle with the index finger of his other hand.

'Do you have any idea how many more nerve endings are in the palm of the hand than in the elbow?' Loki asked derisively. It's not particularly important where the blood comes from, and I see no reason to cause myself any more pain than is absolutely necessary.'

'…Fair enough,' Clint said dully, with a reluctant shrug. 'Spellwork looks a lot more dramatic in the films.'

'Yes, I imagine that what those films fail to show is the _pain_ those so-called "sorcerers" experience any time they attempt to pick something up for the week after they've performed their moronic blood spells,' Loki replied. Natasha snorted in amusement at that, causing Clint to gently kick his leg out at her in mock-anger. She skittered out of the way easily, shooting him a smirk.

'Done,' Loki announced, standing up as the cut on his arm healed itself with a small green spark. Not even a mark was left. 'Barnes should be on his way,' he muttered, checking to ensure that the examination table was right in the middle of the circle. 'Thor, would you be so kind as to shut the blinds on the nearest windows and turn off the lights? I don't particularly wish to be staring at those vile fluorescent bulbs for hours while I work.'

Thor hastened to do as Loki asked, turning off the lights and closing the blinds until Loki deemed the lighting in the room suitably dim.

Tony dashed into the room two minutes later, a grin on his face.

'Guys,' he announced dramatically, in a surprisingly accurate impression of a Northern English accent. 'Winter is coming.'

Clint chuckled from his perch on the counter, Bruce smiling in fond amusement. Thor looked bemused.

'I assume that that's an obscure reference to some facet of popular culture, Stark?' Loki said drily.

'I really should have said "The Winter _Soldier_ is coming,' Tony replied, returning to his normal voice, 'but it didn't work as well. I also realize that that in no way answers your question. I'll explain later. Anyway, JARVIS says Barnes and Steve are in the elevator.'

'Still find it a little hurtful that Barnes's cognitive recalibration is done with magic and a fancy circle while he gets to lie down, while _my_ cognitive recalibration was done by you smacking my head really hard into a metal bar,' Clint murmured, looking pointedly at Natasha.

'You were trying to kill me at the time, Clint, I had to improvise,' came the casual reply. 'Besides, would you have wanted _him_ digging around in your head again?' She added, nodding her head towards Loki.

'Ah. Hell no. Good point,' Clint answered hastily. 'He's not going anywhere near my brain. Ever, _ever_ again.'

'Your lack of trust wounds me, Barton, but I understand your reasoning,' Loki answered smoothly, smiling serenely as he stared at the door.

'Oh, shut up and focus on your damn circle,' Clint replied.

Loki's smile became an amused grin, just as Steve walked through the door, Bucky trailing close behind. Steve's face was apprehensive, his eyes filled with trepidation as they flickered around the room, taking in the circle on the floor and the table in the middle. Loki caught Bucky's eye, wordlessly patting the table twice before elegantly folding himself into the chair at its head. Bucky turned his head to look at Steve intently before walking over and climbing onto the table. His movements were silent and graceful as ever, even without the use of his cybernetic arm, which was still hanging awkwardly and motionlessly at his side. Tony found himself staring at the arm in fascination as Bucky lay down, his mind flashing through mental catalogs of servos and motors and machinery. He really, _really_ wanted to examine that arm.

Steve pulled up a chair on Bucky's right side, sitting so Bucky could see him. Bruce and Thor had the same thought simultaneously, and both of them tactfully moved out of Bucky's immediate line of sight, walking over to sit on the counter beside Tony, opposite the two assassins.

'The circle will expedite the healing process, repairing the physical damage to your brain, but I plan to use a restoration spell simultaneously, which will hopefully increase the chances of you actually regaining the memories you lost. No guarantees, but this is most likely your best chance. Are you ready?' Loki asked.

Bucky jerked his head in a nod, looking away from Steve to stare intently at the ceiling, his teeth gritted. Steve's own teeth and fists were clenched so tightly that they hurt. Natasha, intuitively noticing his distress, leaned over from her seat on the counter to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. Steve looked up at her gratefully before turning his eyes back to the scene before them. Loki was leaning down, pressing his hand to the smallest circle of runes, directly underneath Bucky's head. The circle immediately lit up a golden yellow, glowing brightest in the places where Loki had applied the blood.

'Whoa,' Tony muttered.

'What I wouldn't give to study that,' Bruce agreed, quietly. Both promptly shut up, however, when Loki shot them a death glare that demanded silence. The God placed his hands on either side of Bucky's head, a reddish-orange colour emanating from beneath the skin. Bucky's eyes slid closed and a breath escaped him, his previously tense face going slack.

'Bucky?' Steve asked anxiously, standing up hastily and leaning over the table.

'Get out of the circle, Rogers,' Loki growled, his eyes shut in concentration.

'_Is he okay_?'

'He's not dead, if that's what you're asking. The circle is _designed_ to put him to sleep while I work. Now get out of the circle.'

Steve didn't move, still staring at Bucky in concern.

Loki sighed. 'If you're in the circle, Rogers, you are sapping valuable energy from it that could be used to heal your friend.'

Steve shot back against the counters like he'd been scalded.

'Good. Thank you,' Loki said, closing his eyes again.

Steve stared at him for a moment. 'That was a lie, wasn't it?'

'Yes. I just wanted you to move. Now kindly shut up before you wake him.'

Steve scowled, but slowly sat back down, and the room finally fell into silence, the bright light coming from Loki's hands and the circle on the floor casting dim shadows on the walls.

* * *

Loki was still working two hours later, beginning to sweat slightly from exertion. He hadn't used magic in such a prolonged, continuous fashion in years. It was too draining. He ignored the growing sense of exhaustion and focused harder. Tony had left to go to his workshop after the first 30 minutes, muttering something about wanting to try building an arm. Bruce had left and returned a few minutes later with a notepad and pen, watching the steadily pulsing light coming from the healing circle and making careful notes. Clint and Natasha were still in the room, but had moved further away to converse in hushed voices. Thor and Steve were the only spectators who hadn't moved at all, both still staring at the two stationary figures. Thor's expression was solemn and alert, but Steve still looked utterly terrified as he stared at Bucky intently. He was biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and was worrying at it so anxiously that even with his increased capacity for cell regeneration, it didn't even have time to heal. Seeing the look on his face, Thor walked over to stand beside him tentatively.

'I know all too well that Loki is not known for being trustworthy,' he murmured, 'but I can think of few people more capable in this regard. He is a master of spellwork.'

Steve swallowed thickly, turning to look at the massive God beside him, glad of the slight distraction. 'Honestly, when we fought him before, I wouldn't have pegged him as someone who knew any spells that could be used to help anyone,' he whispered back.

'Our mother taught him a great number of those spells,' Thor replied, his eyes distant. 'These past few years, I was starting to believe that he had forgotten them.'

Steve looked up at him pensively before blinking and turning back to the figure on the table.

'Perhaps helping your friend remember who he was may help Loki recall who he was, before all of this happened,' Thor continued, his voice so quiet that it was almost unrecognisable. 'Regardless, I am confident that he will do the absolute best he can. Do not make yourself sick with worry prematurely, Steve.'

Steve gave him a tiny, tight smile. 'Your mom sounds like a great lady.'

'Indeed,' Thor replied, nodding. 'And a truly great teacher, as well. Loki learned much from her.'

'Well, good,' Steve said. 'That's reassuring.'

Thor clapped him on the shoulder before lapsing back into a companionable, contemplative silence. Steve stared at Loki, feeling ever so slightly more hopeful.

Loki, still hunched over the table as he worked, didn't open his eyes, but hearing Thor's words, took a deep breath and tried to suppress the feelings of exhaustion coursing through his arms. Gritting his teeth, he focused harder on the spell, his hands glowing so brightly that the bones of Bucky's skull were illuminated through the skin.

An hour and twenty minutes later, Tony wandered back into the room, hands grubby with machinery grease. 'Any progress?' he asked quietly, walking over to stand beside Bruce.

'We can't really tell yet,' Bruce answered. I mean, the circle was pulsing once a second when the procedure started, and now it's only pulsing…' he cocked his head to the side as he counted, '…once every three seconds. But I don't know if that means anything.'

Opposite them, Steve glanced down at the circle on the floor. 'Hey,' he called softly, 'is it just me, or is the light from the circle getting dimmer?'

'I think you might be right,' Bruce said after a few seconds, gently placing his notepad and pen on the counter and standing up.

'Loki?' Thor said tentatively, noticing that the light in his brother's hands was also getting dimmer. Noticing the sudden flurry of talking and movement taking place on the other side of the room, Clint and Natasha rapidly jogged over.

'It means that the physical damage to his brain is fully repaired.' Loki murmured, pulling his hands away from the sides of Bucky's head. His arms, no longer supported by the table, slumped to his sides. 'There's no way to be sure whether his memories have returned until he wakes up, though.' Unsteadily rising to his feet, he swayed on the spot for a moment before stumbling. Thor hastily caught him, lowering him to sit on the floor, propped in the corner between a cabinet and the wall. Loki was blinking slowly, his eyes unfocused and his head lolling from side to side in utter exhaustion.

'Bucky?' Steve asked, as he tentatively placed his hand on the assassin's shoulder, the one still made of flesh and bone.

The assassin's eyes slowly opened, blinking a few stray strands of brown hair out of the way. They were unfocused, staring upwards blankly. Steve cleared his throat.

'…Bucky?' he asked quietly, his voice wavering. His mouth was dry, his heart pounding.

'You may want to stand back, Rogers,' Loki slurred, resting his head against the wall as his eyes slid closed. Thor looked at him in concern.

Steve removed his hand from Bucky's shoulder, but didn't step away. He tried again, slightly louder and stronger this time.

'….Bucky. Can you hear me?'

The eyes, previously fixed on the ceiling, moved downwards at his words and focused on his face, scanning his features. Steve searched desperately for any sign, any spark, of recognition.

Finally, the eyes locked on his again, a small, weary smile appeared on the Winter Soldier's lips.

'…Hey, Steve,' he murmured, voice little more than a whisper. But the tone, although quiet, was warm, not the cold, grating tones they had come to recognise.

The occupants of the room exhaled in unison, Steve's eyes immediately filling with tears of relief as he looked down at his best friend.

'It seems that your spells worked, brother,' Thor said, shaking Loki's shoulder, beaming with pride. 'He said "Steve", he recognises him. He remembers!'

'Oh, good,' Loki said, blinking up at the table. 'I honestly had no idea whether that would work.'

Thor clasped his slender shoulders happily. 'You did a great thing today, brother. Mother would be proud.'

Loki answered with a wide, self-satisfied smirk before sliding down the wall and passing out.

'Whoa, is he all right?' Tony asked, as Steve helped Bucky slowly sit up on the table.

'I believe so,' Thor replied, gently gathering Loki into his arms and getting to his feet. 'He was working incessantly for over three hours; it was inevitable that he would be exhausted afterwards. He should be fine after he has rested.'

'He seems to have done a good job, I'd say he's earned a nap,' Natasha said drily, looking from Loki's unconscious figure to Bucky, who was climbing unsteadily off the table.

'I agree,' Thor chuckled lightly, carrying Loki out of the room as if he weighed nothing at all. 'I am glad that it worked, Steve,' he said earnestly, pausing in the doorway. 'I hope your friend's memories are intact.'

Steve didn't speak. He didn't think he was able to, at that moment, so he decided to reply with a look of intense gratitude and happiness. Thor grinned back at him and vanished into the corridor.

There was a moment of silence as everyone stared at Bucky, who was staring around the room as if in shock.

'Oooookay.' Tony said slowly, deciding to break the silence. 'All those in favor of leaving the dark-ass room with the weird glowy circle in the corner and going back upstairs, say "aye."'

'Aye,' said Natasha and Bruce, making for the door.

'You ok to go upstairs, Buck?' Steve asked. Bucky stopped staring around the lab, looked steadily back at him and gave a tiny, hesitant nod.

'Aye, then,' Steve said to Tony with a small smile, guiding Bucky out of the room.

Tony looked at Clint. 'What about you, Katniss?'

'Aye need a drink,' Clint said, as he walked past Tony.

'Oh, very clever. I see what you did there.'

'Oh, yeah. You and Banner aren't the only geniuses on this team.'

'I think you'll find that the correct term is "_Genii",_ Merida.' Tony replied, as the walked down the corridor.

'Seriously?' Clint asked. 'You're referencing Disney now? Did you literally just Google "Famous archers" to find more nicknames for me?'

'Yup. I'm gonna give you a choice between "Cupid," that "Tauriel" chick from the Hobbit movie, or "Green Arrow."'

'_Green Arrow_?'

'Yeah, you know, that archer superhero in the DC comics?'

'Oh, right. I choose that one, then. Awesome. I didn't know there _was_ an archer superhero,' Clint replied as they reached the elevator. 'I was never really into DC comics.'

Tony squinted at him, confused. 'Who else even _makes_ comics?'

* * *

That evening, the tower was quiet. Loki was still fast asleep in his bedroom, and Thor and Tony had gone down to the workshop to continue work on the Iron Man suits. Bruce was working quietly somewhere, and Natasha and Clint had finally been persuaded to stop watching Bucky.

'You'll just make him nervous,' Steve had said. 'JARVIS will alert you both if anything happens, okay? Go and have a sparring session or something. Come on, Nat, please?'

And after a few minutes of arguing, Natasha had finally agreed to leave the room, dragging a protesting Clint with her.

'So,' Steve said, walking back over to Bucky, who was sitting on the sofa, in the same place as the previous night. It seemed that he had claimed that spot. 'What exactly do you remember now?'

Bucky was quiet for a moment. 'Brooklyn,' he said finally. 'I grew up in Brooklyn. In New York.'

'That's right.' Steve encouraged gently.

'I went to…school with you.'

'Yeah.'

Bucky tilted his head to the side, squinting in confusion. 'There's something wrong with the memories…you were much smaller. Why were you smaller?'

Steve chuckled, hope blossoming in his chest at the fact that Bucky remembered their schooldays. 'Yeah, I had a growth spurt,' he replied with a grin. 'I finally caught you up.'

A tiny smile appeared on Bucky's face.

'So what else?' Steve continued.

'I remember fighting next to you. And then there was snow…a snowy place,' Bucky answered. 'And I was falling.'

Steve swallowed hard at the memory. That had been one of the worst days of his life.

'There's only flashes after that,' Bucky said, his head dropping down to stare at the floor. 'I…I remember people talking to me about making a better future. And shooting someone. I was on top of a building, and I shot someone. He was making a speech.'

'You don't have to talk about this, Buck,' Steve said quickly, seeing the distress on his friend's face.

'They told me to kill a man and a woman,' Bucky said, staring up at Steve, his eyes wild. 'It was a businessman, I think. I cut the brake lines on the car. It crashed and exploded. Everyone thought it was an accident.'

'Bucky,' Steve said desperately. 'That wasn't you, it wasn't your fault.'

'I killed so many people,' Bucky said, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Sweat was sticking his hair to his forehead, and his heart was pounding so quickly that he could feel it in his throat, making him feel nauseous and dizzy. 'Oh, God. Oh, my God.'

'Bucky,' Steve said urgently, 'look at me. Buck? Look at me.'

Bucky met his gaze, shaking violently. There were tears in his eyes, sweat glazing his face.

'It was not your fault, do you hear me?' Steve said, his voice gentle but firm, an undertone of military command behind each word. 'You are not a murderer, and what was done to you was not your fault. You're the best friend I ever had.'

Bucky stared back at him, still shaking.

'You need to breathe,' Steve continued. 'Take a deep breath for me, okay?'

Bucky slowly drew in a shaky, shuddering breath, coughing slightly as he did so.

'And again,' Steve said, gripping Bucky's shoulder. 'Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.'

Bucky complied, repeating the action several times until he wasn't trembling as much.

'That…sounds familiar,' he said hoarsely, his voice scratchy. 'What you just said.'

'You used to say that to me, Buck,' Steve answered softly. 'I had asthma when we were little, do you remember? And you'd walk me out of the room and sit me down on the sidewalk and tell me to breathe until I felt better.'

Bucky looked up at him, wheezing slightly as his breathing finally slowed.

'You want to get some air?' Steve said gently. Bucky nodded, blinking tears from his eyes. Steve stood up from the sofa, cautiously allowing Bucky to stand by himself. Together, they walked out onto the balcony of the tower, Bucky inhaling deeply as they passed through the door. He coughed a little as the cool evening air hit the back of his throat, but he kept breathing deeply as they leaned on the railing, looking out over the lights of New York.

'So many people,' Bucky said hoarsely.

'Bucky...' Steve said, then tailed off as he realised that he had no idea what to say.

'That woman,' Bucky said, staring at the city. 'The one with the red hair. I shot her.'

'Well, yeah…' Steve replied hesitantly. 'But Clint and Bruce have both nearly killed Natasha before, and I think she sees them both as friends. I doubt she'll hold a grudge against you. And she shot Loki, and they get on pretty well too.'

'I tried to kill _you_,' Bucky whispered.

'It wasn't your fault,' Steve said firmly. 'And I'm fine. I heal fast.'

'I can't stay here,' Bucky said softly. 'Not after what I did to you. And…Natasha. And all those other people.'

Steve was silent for a moment, before carefully scanning the skyline and pointing out certain buildings.

'You see those tower blocks over there?' He asked. 'The one with the chunks missing from the roof?'

Bucky nodded slowly, confused. Steve pointed downwards, where the remains of a destroyed block of buildings remained. 'And see that, right there?'

Bucky nodded again, waiting for Steve to explain.

You know who destroyed those buildings?' Steve asked. 'The same guy who decided to help give you your mind back.'

'…Loki?' Bucky asked, frowning.

'He's not from here,' Steve replied. 'Him and Thor are both sort of… well, aliens, I guess. Aliens that look like us. And a while ago, Loki came to New York, opened this portal to the other side of space and starting blowing up parts of Manhattan.'

Bucky turned to stare back at the damaged buildings, his brow furrowed.

'His body count was a lot higher than yours, and that's without the kind of brainwashing you had,' Steve said gently. 'And he's still a little bit crazy and unstable, and still ridiculously dangerous, but he decided to help you, right? So if there's still hope for him, and he can still do the right thing, I don't see why there wouldn't be hope for you. You had no control over your actions, Bucky. HYDRA did those things, not you. So I'm not going to order you to stay here, it's your choice. I'm just inviting you to. At least until you get back on your feet.'

Bucky looked at him, his eyes glassy with tears. 'What about the others?'

'They'll be fine with it,' Steve replied, his voice filled with reassuring certainty.

Bucky blinked slowly, the breeze blowing his hair away from his face. 'Thank you.'

'I meant what I said.' Steve answered. 'To the end of the line.'

* * *

The next day, Tony was woken up by JARVIS at 6am. It wasn't the usual refined English accent that issued from the speakers in their bedrooms, however. Tony's head jerked off the pillow, spluttering in shock as Edith Piaf's _"Je ne regrette rien"_ boomed through his room. Not the original version, though. JARVIS was quite clearly singing it himself, and drastically off-key.

'JARVIS!' He yelled, rolling out of bed and hitting the floor with a loud thud. 'What the hell? Shut up! Stop!'

JARVIS didn't respond, just kept singing.

'Loki…' Tony growled, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and sprinting out of the door to find the culprit. In the main living area, he nearly collided with Thor, Clint and Natasha, who had all clearly been startled awake just as he had. They all looked considerably more alert, though.

'I'm assuming it wasn't your idea to have JARVIS embark on a singing career?' Clint asked, rubbing his eyes. The sounds of the AI warbling in French were still echoing around the room.

'Believe me, if it was me making him sing, I wouldn't have picked that song,' Tony replied, collapsing onto a barstool.

Natasha looked around the room. 'Where's Bruce? And Steve? And more importantly, where's Barnes?'

'I generally try not to antagonise the good doctor, Agent Romanoff,' came the smooth response from the doorway, causing them all to whip around, startled. 'And I decided that Mr. Barnes would not respond well to being rudely awakened.'

'What, and the rest of us _have_ responded well?' Tony grumbled.

'You have responded significantly better than a terrified and confused 97-year old man with post traumatic stress disorder, Stark,' Loki responded, narrowing his eyes.

'So what was with the wake-up call? Clint asked.

'A little thank-you for being ambushed, attacked, throttled by Doctor Banner and thrown unceremoniously into a cell with my hands cuffed and a gag over my mouth,' Loki replied lightly. 'Enjoy.'

'Loki…' Thor said, whining slightly.

'Don't whine, Thor, it's extremely unbecoming.' Loki answered, grinning at his brother. 'Do you know who whines? Babies.'

Thor grimaced but fell into silence.

'So how long can we expect this for?' Tony asked.

'Until I'm satisfied.' Loki said, turning to leave the room with a grin.

'So what happens if Barnes walks in the room and gets freaked out?' Clint yelled.

'Only you four are able to hear the singing,' Loki replied, vanishing into the corridor.

'Right. Well, I may be leaving the tower for the next few days,' Natasha said blankly.

'Me too,' Clint muttered. 'I might ask Fury for an assignment.'

When Bruce got up a few hours later and walked into the room, he was bemused at the sight of his teammates eating breakfast while wearing noise-cancelling headphones.

'What's going on?' He asked, walking over to sit beside Tony.

'Loki did something to JARVIS,' the inventor sighed, resting his forehead on the table. 'And now he won't stop singing and only we can hear it.'

'…What song?' Bruce asked.

'_Je ne regrette rien._'

Bruce cracked up laughing.

'It's not funny,' Natasha said, although she was smiling slightly at the sight of the normally quiet doctor laughing so hard.

It only took Tony thirty minutes to finally get JARVIS to stop singing, once he realized that the only way that he could get through to his AI was to talk in French. But by that evening, JARVIS was still refusing to talk in any other language, no matter how much Tony pleaded.

'I didn't know you spoke French,' Steve said, that evening at dinner. To Natasha's delight, he had taken a night off from his usual healthy eating regimen. She was always trying to get him to eat more junk food. Instead, they'd ordered pizza. Tony was sharing with Bruce, and Steve was sharing a large pizza with Bucky, who was hunched over the table, not making eye contact with anyone and scarfing down the food as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

'I don't speak it as well as I'd like,' Tony answered, leaning over the large table to steal a slice from Steve and Bucky's box. 'Pepper's fluent.'

He stopped talking to stare incredulously at Bucky, who had finished the pizza on his plate and was reaching for another slice.

'Does your crazy regenerative superhuman-ness stop you two getting indigestion?' Tony asked, looking to Steve.

'I don't think so,' Steve answered, reaching over to place a hand on Bucky's shoulder. 'You might want to slow down, Buck.'

Bucky looked up at him, and then surrendered the pizza, handing his plate to Steve with a chastened expression.

'No, you don't have to stop eating, just, you know, slow down a little,' Steve said hastily, pushing the plate back.

Bucky picked it back up gingerly, awkwardly leaning over the table to use his right arm. 'Pizza's improved since the 40s,' he said quietly, with a tiny smile. Steve beamed back at him.

'Wait until you try poptarts,' Thor said as he walked in, shooting a warm, friendly smile at Bucky and snagging a large piece of garlic bread as he passed the table.

'And remind me to show you YouTube,' Bruce said, with a smile. 'Cats. So many cats.'

He suddenly saw the strange look that Tony was giving him. 'What? It helps with stress,' He said, defensively.

'So how are you feeling, Barnes?' Tony asked, deciding to change the subject but still frowning at Bruce.

'Nightmares,' Bucky said dully.

'His memory's patchy,' Steve said. 'But when he fell asleep he was getting flashes of things that had happened. He kept waking up screaming.'

Tony swallowed, not sure how to respond. 'Well, hopefully with time it'll improve…?' he said hesitantly, internally sighing with relief when Steve nodded in agreement.

'Well, I notice you're still not using that left arm of yours, Barnes,' Tony said. 'Machinery's kind of my thing. If you let me take a look at it, I might be able to fix it.'

Bucky was silent for a moment. 'I'm not sure I want it fixed,' he answered finally. '_They_ put it on me. It's a weapon, I killed people with it.'

'Anything can be used as a weapon if you put your mind to it, Barnes,' Loki said, effortlessly joining the conversation as he strode into the room. Ever since his prank with JARVIS that morning, he'd been in a rather good mood. 'It's entirely dependent on the imagination of the person in question.'

'You can't use _anything_, surely,' Steve said skeptically.

'When we were younger, Loki once killed a wild boar with a carrot.' Thor said absently from behind them, rooting through a cupboard.

Tony and Steve turned to stare at Loki, who was polishing an apple on the front of his loose black shirt.

'A _carrot_?' Tony said.

'I was forced to improvise. It turns out that they can do a rather impressive amount of damage when they're going at speed, though,' Loki answered smugly, taking a bite from the apple.

Tony realised that he had a sudden urge to build a carrot gun.

'Anyway…' Loki said thickly, chewing and swallowing, 'the arm is just an arm, Barnes, albeit a very strong one. It does not become a weapon unless you choose to use it that way. If you happen to be punching someone, it is a weapon. If you are playing chess or petting a dog, for example, it is only an arm. I advise that you let Stark repair it.'

From where he was standing, he was unable to see Thor's wide smile.

Bucky cast Loki a grateful expression, looking somewhat reassured. In response, the God raised his apple in a lazy, noncommittal salute before taking another bite from it. Bucky turned to Tony.

'All right, then,' he said. 'Thank you.'

'No problem, Robocop,' Tony replied, as Loki made for the door. 'And hey, thanks for your little prank earlier,' Tony said, turning to glare as Loki walked past. 'It wasn't irritating _at all_ to only be able to talk to JARVIS in French. Would you mind putting him back to normal now?'

'Wait, so you speak French?' Loki asked, pausing.

'Well yeah, it's rusty, but enough to be able to talk to JARVIS. It'd be easier in _English,_ though. Come on. Stop him speaking French.'

Loki sighed dramatically, waving his fingers. The speakers in the ceiling glowed briefly, then returned to normal.

'_Finally. _Thank you,' Tony said, sighing with relief.

Loki inclined his head graciously, and left the room, hiding a grin by biting into the apple again.

Tony turned to Steve. '…That was too easy, wasn't it?'

'_Much_ too easy,' Steve said with a grin, reaching for more pizza.

'JARVIS?' Tony called at the ceiling.

'_Da?' _Came the reply.

'GodDAMMIT!' Tony yelled. 'Loki, now you made him speak _Russian_?'

'You left loopholes for him when you told him what to do,' Steve said, grinning. 'It's the frozen yoghurt all over again.'

Bucky shot him a look of confusion.

'I told him to make JARVIS speak English!' Tony said desperately.

'No, you said it'd be _easier_ to understand him in English. What you actually told Loki to do was to "stop JARVIS speaking French."' Steve said with a grin. 'And he did.'

'So what's he actually saying?' Tony asked helplessly, gesturing at the ceiling speakers, where JARVIS was still talking.

'…That Loki is cleverer than you.' Bucky and Thor said in unison. Steve and Bruce snorted in amusement.

Tony slumped in defeat. 'Thor, I can only apologize, but I'm going to have to strangle your little brother,' he said wearily. Thor chuckled.

'Anyone want to explain why JARVIS is now chanting "your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries" in Russian?' Natasha asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she stuck her head through the door. Clint was hooting with laughter in the room behind her.

Tony moaned, dropping his head into his hands. 'Who let Loki watch Monty Python?' he asked, his voice muffled.

'At least JARVIS isn't singing any more,' Steve offered, fighting and failing to keep a straight face.

And his smile only got wider when he turned his head and saw that Bucky, still sitting beside him, was laughing silently.

Hopefully Tony was right. With time, Bucky could recover.

And, sitting beside his long-lost best friend, as Natasha and Clint walked in to join the rest of the team and steal a few remaining slices of pizza, Steve realized that he hadn't felt so happy in years.

* * *

GAAAAAAAH. That story was originally meant to be 10,000 words long. I don't know how that happened.  
Apologies for the angst. Marvel have a tendency to make characters that rip your heart out. I'm far too invested in fictional characters.

I just wish we could bake a cake made of rainbows and smiles and all the tortured Marvel characters with tragic backstories could all eat and be happy...

*Sob* I just have a lot of feelings...

Speaking of which, as always, I hid a few film and TV references within this story. If anyone finds them all, they win a virtual cookie.

And I wasn't joking about the lethality of carrots. I don't know if you've ever seen a carrot being fired at high speed, but it's epic. It can make massive holes in planks of wood. Why I decided to mention the lethality of carrots in this story, I don't know.

So I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry again for the ridiculously long wait between updates.

If you liked it, please leave a comment!

If you hated it, congratulations on making it through all 27,000 words. I'm not sure why you kept going but you're clearly a very strong willed and tenacious person and I salute you for it. Please don't shoot me down in flames in reviews, though.

Thanks for reading! :D x


End file.
